Threads Of Fate
by ButterflyBabyBlue
Summary: Link, one of the newest students at Her Grace's College along with his friend Pipit, wasn't sure what he should have expected of the prestigious high school. But when he catches the attention of the secretive white-haired student sitting at the back of the classroom, he discovers that he could be in for a rough time, indeed. Ghiralink, high school AU. Contains two OCs.
1. The First Day

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: I did it! I finally started a Legend of Zelda high school AU! With a crappy title that may soon change! This will be a Ghiralink, so if you're not a fan of that, you probably won't enjoy it all that much, but either way I hope this will turn out okay. So, here we go!**

**Also, thank you to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading!**

"Link! Come on, man, we're gonna be late!"

He spluttered, nearly choking on the piece of toast that was shoved into his mouth. Forcing himself up, he sat up in his bed, legs tangled in the pale green sheets. Before he could blink sleep from his eyes, a pair of jeans was thrown at him, along with a green t-shirt that matched his covers. Two shoes hit him mercilessly on the head and he picked up a pillow, lobbing it at the door. It slammed shut and the pillow hit the floor with a dull thud.

"Ugh," Link muttered, running a hand through tousled blonde hair. He pulled the denim jeans on and stood up, pulling on the nondescript shirt and catching a glimpse of himself in the small mirror hanging on the door of his wooden wardrobe. His sleepy blue eyes took in his tired face, rumpled clothing and bemused expression. He honestly couldn't say he was looking forward to what was coming.

"Isn't ten hours sleep enough for you?" a familiar voice called from the room next to his. Link groaned and picked up his now-cold breakfast, stepping over socks and DVDs to make it to the door, pulling it open with a pronounced sigh. Shutting it behind him, he moved to the next door, pushing it open without bothering to knock.

"Hey!" yelled a startled teen with ruffled brown hair and sharp grey eyes. Pipit glared at Link as he shrugged on a pale yellow shirt, but it was soon replaced with a smile.

"You sleep like a log, seriously," he laughed, and Link stuck his tongue out in return. Chewing on his toast, he shuffled to the bathroom and splashed his face with some water in an effort to wake himself up. Pipit joined him, grabbing his toothbrush and beginning to scrub relentlessly at his teeth. Link followed, though he was considerably slower. Unlike Pipit, he wasn't a morning person.

"Aren't you even a little excited for this?" Pipit asked flicking some water at Link before he wiped his hands dry with a towel. He tossed it to Link on his way out of the bathroom and moved to the door at the end of the white-walled corridor of the apartment.

"Mom!" Link heard him call. "We're going soon, alright?"

"No problem!" Mallara chimed in reply.

Link stepped into the main room of the apartment, a kitchen and living room all in one. The smaller half of the room went to the kitchen, where Mallara spent her time perfecting various dishes, which never went unappreciated by the two teens living under her roof. The living area was reserved for a small couch and a blue beanbag -Pipit's prized possession- sitting in front of a twenty-five inch television. Link and Pipit had spent a month or so saving to buy a DVD player and a couple of movies to watch.

Mallara had taken Link in after both of his parents died in a car crash. They'd been killed instantly, and a day later, Link had been found wandering about the family's car, not daring to wander too far in case he got lost. Pipit had been out walking when he discovered the blonde teen, and they had instantly felt a connection. Since that day, since Link's mom and dad had been buried and said goodbye to, Pipit and Mallara had been there for him despite all of their financial troubles and their own family problems.

Pipit's dad had left after Mallara declared him an alcoholic, leaving in a drunken rage and taking the money with him. The apartment they lived in now was the most they could afford. Thankfully, the woman who let them rent it out was very forgiving, and sympathised with Mallara's tough time finding a job. Now, Link did whatever he could to repay Mallara, whether it was paying for some of the weekly groceries or just helping with the cleaning now and then.

"Are you boys ready to go, then? I have your bags here."

Mallara's kind voice snapped Link out of his daydreaming and he gave her a smile, taking the dark green bag as Pipit took his dark brown one with a 'thanks'. They headed for their front door and practically fell over each other as they flew down the stairs to catch the bus.

Just as it took off from the stop, Pipit and Link raced around the street corner, yelling after it until it finally came to a stop. They clambered up three steep steps and tried to hide from the glare of the bus driver as they scanned the seats for a free space. Eventually, they spotted two seats near the back of the bus, and made their way to them.

Pipit flung himself down onto a rock hard seat, panting. Link landed beside him, grimacing as he bumped the back of his head against the seat.

"We made it!" Pipit said in wonder. "You really need to start getting up earlier, Link. This place isn't like our other school, not a bit."

Link nodded in agreement, though he wasn't making any promises about getting up early. But he already knew this school would be considerably worse than the one they'd attended before. Howard's Academy had been run by a carefree principal who employed teachers that surprised the students by showing up at all. In fact, students showing up were just as much of a shock, especially the ones that came on time. After the country's Board of Education had found out about how the school was run, it was promptly shut down, and the students had been relocated to the prestigious high school that was Her Grace's College. This was where any student who was serious about their schoolwork would want to be attending. But it was not where Link and Pipit had planned on going.

They looked around at the other students they would be accompanied by: A fiery-looking redhead with her hair in two ponytails, a short boy with wavy dark hair, a tall male with a blonde bowl cut, and an arrogant-looking, muscular one with styled hair. These were among the first students they laid eyes upon. Chatting to one another animatedly, the students finally arrived at the front gates, iron-wrought and just as foreboding as Link had imagined them to be.

The building was… grey, to say the least. To Link, it didn't look like a place where students would be happy. Pipit seemed to think the same, frowning up at the massive building sceptically. Link glanced about at the other students who filed out of the bus, all of them looking right at home.

He turned and met the kind blue eyes of a pretty girl with long, blonde hair, tied neatly at the end with a ribbon. She wore a long dress of dark pink; a white shawl was wrapped in a particular way around her back and over her shoulders. Before she could introduce herself, the red-haired girl Link had seen on the bus grabbed her arm and they turned to walk away. The blonde glanced over her shoulder as she walked along with her friend, offering him another smile just as they were lost in a group of laughing students.

Pipit was grinning at Link with undisguised amusement. Link turned to shoot him a pointed glare and Pipit just laughed.

"Admirers on the first day, eh?" he teased, dodging an elbow to the ribs. "I've a feeling you'll enjoy your time here, anyway."

Link felt his cheeks colour and he gave Pipit a small smile in return. "… Whatever."

He moved to enter the gates, Pipit trailing behind him a little so Link wouldn't see his grin. Link yelled out in surprise when a weight knocked him to the ground, his palms scraping against the gravel before he picked himself up and turned to address whatever –or whoever- it was that had pushed him down.

He found himself meeting the yellow-brown eyes of the huge redhead with the pompadour from the bus. He wore a blue t-shirt that was nearly bursting at the seams because of his massive arm muscles. He leered down at Link with his arms crossed, as if accusing him of something.

"Watch where you're going, shortie!" he snapped, pushing past Pipit so he could get ahead. Link dusted off his jeans and matched Pipit's surprised expression. Keeping their heads down, they managed to make it to their classroom without being bothered again.

"So this is the group we're stuck with till the end of the year," Pipit mused as he and Link stepped into the classroom. The walls were white, Link thought, but they were covered in so many educational posters and spread-sheets it was hard to tell if they really were white. The door was red, with a strange name written in a language Link couldn't understand at all.

Students seated themselves in groups of three or four, some perched on the wooden desks or just lounging in the chairs provided. Link spotted the blonde girl who'd smiled at him, sitting with the redhead and another pretty girl with wide brown eyes and short brown hair that poofed out at the back of her head. They giggled and chatted excitedly, and Link couldn't help smiling. Maybe this school wouldn't be so bad.

"Where do you want to sit?" asked Pipit. Link blinked and looked around for a free seat. His eyes fell on a student sitting alone at the back of the class, glancing about at other students worriedly. He had rosy cheeks and wore an orange shirt with his blue trousers. Everything about him, from the slightly stooped way he was seated to the anxious expression, said he would happily accept anyone to sit with him.

Link and Pipit didn't even need to look at each other before they started making their way to the guy, and gave him a smile when he looked up in shock.

"Mind if we sit with you for a while?" asked Pipit. "I'm Pipit; this is Link."

The teen looked so overwhelmed Link thought he might cry. He stumbled all over himself when he spoke.

"S-Sure, definitely," he said. "My name… I-I'm Fledge."

"Nice to meet you," said Pipit, sliding into the seat next to him while Link seated himself on the desk. About to turn and talk to Fledge some more, he locked eyes with another student and immediately forgot all about Fledge and Pipit.

He had a red hoodie that looked one or two sizes too big on him. The hood was up, and Link could make out a red and yellow diamond pattern on the underside of the fabric. Deep as the hood was, it couldn't hope to contain the mass of white hair that fell over one side of his pale face, hiding an eye from view, and half of his smirk. His white jeans were skin-tight, displaying toned muscle. The jeans were so long that they actually covered the heels of the immaculate white shoes he wore. He wore a gold belt with a gleaming red jewel serving as the buckle.

His dark brown eyes took Link in, studying him intently. He was texting someone on a black phone, though his eyes were trained solely on Link. A smudge of purple lined his lower eyelid. Something about his gaze made Link both curious and a little on edge. His expression said one thing: trouble.

Shivering despite the warm weather, Link forced himself to turn back to Fledge and Pipit, who were discussing teachers, it seemed.

"Owlan really likes plants, biology and stuff like that," Fledge was saying. "If you like Science you can pretty much ace the class with no effort. If you don't, it could be a tough time."

Pipit smiled. "No doubt we'll get along just fine."

"You don't like Science, then?" Fledge said. "Ah, that's a shame. What about you, Link?"

"It's okay," said Link. "Some bits of it."

Fledge smiled at him. "Great! Horwell likes animals, and he's a bit more exciting than Owlan is; he's got a little more character."

"I'll be looking forward to his class, then," Pipit decided, and Link nodded in agreement. Fledge grinned back.

"Hopefully we'll have some classes together," he said. "Gaepora teaches History, and he's the headmaster of the school. Be careful around him."

Link sent a pointed look in Pipit's direction, and he gave sheepish smile in response. Pipit had never been popular with teachers. Link couldn't say he was either, but he'd never stuck a teacher's shoes to the floor with super glue, or taped some crude pictures on the mirrors in the staff room, either. Pipit would have to be kept on his toes; this wasn't Howards.

"Fledge," said Link quietly. "Who is that guy over there?"

Fledge followed Link's eyes to the white-haired student. He swallowed apprehensively before he answered.

"There's… sort of a hierarchy in the school," he began. "Zelda, that blonde girl over there, is the headmaster's daughter, so she has the respect of nearly everyone in the school."

Link glanced back over his shoulder at her. Zelda, that was a nice name. He shook himself and returned his attention to Fledge, who had gone a little quiet.

"Groose –the redhead- kind of pushes his luck; he's been after Zelda for years and has a bit of reputation around here. I'm glad he's not in all of our classes. Not a lot of people would stand up to Groose if they had the choice."

When Fledge spoke next, Link actually had to lean in to hear, along with Pipit.

"That white-haired guy over there, he's… that's Ghirahim. Listen to me when I say this: do not mess with Ghirahim. Stay away from him and don't associate with him if you can. Don't speak to him unless he speaks to you first. Zelda might be better-liked but Ghirahim… Well, don't laugh at me but, Ghirahim is the king. A tenth grader gave him a shove in the corridor once. Ghirahim took him down without breaking a sweat, and no-one's seen that guy since. Do not mess with him."

Link and Pipit blinked, astonished. Link sneaked a glance at him, sitting delicately on a desk with one leg bent, the other outstretched, toes pointed like a dancer. This guy was a king? Despite the muscles Link could see, Ghirahim didn't really look to be that much at all.

A sharp 'beep' noise repeated itself five times and Fledge stood up with a small sigh.

"That'll be the first class. I'll show you guys around a little on the way. We have… Mr Horwell first. Not bad for the first day back, I guess."

Pipit and Link got up from their seats and grabbed their bags while Fledge grabbed his brown leather one. The three began making their way to the first class, shuffling with the other students as some pushed each other out of the way to leave first. Link kept behind Pipit and Fledge, keeping an eye on their bags as he walked.

He let out a startled noise as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Rotating on his heel, he found himself looking into the eyes of none other than Ghirahim. The pale teen pocketed his phone, smiling down at Link, who could have sworn something in his eyes literally sparked.

"Fresh fish," he said softly, his voice like velvet. Stunned, Link realized Ghirahim's hand still rested on his shoulder and tried to back away, but stopped with a hiss when Ghirahim applied more pressure, forcing Link against a poster-covered wall. Link saw his hands were gloved, an immaculate white just like his jeans. A diamond cut-out showed more pale skin, thin veins running along the bones.

"Learn your place," Ghirahim continued, "and your experience in this school could be a good one."

Link just nodded, his hands braced against the classroom wall. Ghirahim grinned maliciously.

"But draw attention to yourself," he breathed, "and I'll have to take charge."

Unashamedly terrified, Link nodded again and tried to speak. "I-I won't draw attention."

Ghirahim was silent for a brief moment, and Link waited in trepidation for him to speak again. Just when Link's shoulder became extremely uncomfortable, Ghirahim lifted his hand away and laughed silkily.

"So scared," he mused, before he flashed his teeth at Link again. "So delightful."

And with that, he swept from the room with all the grace of a cat. And Link was alone, shuddering and still in a state of shock. With a shaky breath, he counted to ten before he stepped outside of the classroom door and began jogging down the long corridors, trying to find Mr Horwell's class before he got in trouble. He'd been hoping to make a good start on the first day – "Start as you mean to go on," Mallara had always said- but thanks to his encounter with Ghirahim he was too astonished to pay attention to the names on the classroom doors.

He turned a corner, sprinting, and had to try and skid to a stop when he saw a tall, dark-haired man walking steadily in his direction, a book in hand. However, Link was too late to stop himself and he crashed into the man, stumbling back from the impact.

The tall man blinked his blue eyes in surprise, regaining composure much quicker than Link managed to.

"I'm so sorry," Link said hastily. "I-I'm late for Mr Horwell's class and I was just-"

"You've come to the right person," the man cut him off with a smile. "I'm Mr Horwell."

Link nearly smacked himself, he was so embarrassed. "Oh, I didn't know. Sorry about that… First day."

Horwell nodded in understanding. "No matter. Come along with me and we'll get started with this class, hmm?"

Link nodded gratefully, and walked alongside him, feeling smaller than he ever had. He felt even more stupid when Horwell stopped at a classroom door and Link realised he'd walked right past the class in his panic.

"Well, let's get going!" said Horwell cheerfully, throwing the door opened. Link braced himself, and then took a step inside the class, preparing for what may yet happen.

**A/N: Sort of an abrupt ending, there, sorry. But, please tell me what you think of this story! Until next time!**


	2. Introductions

**Threads Of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone, here is chapter two! Thank you all for the lovely reviews and favourites and follows! I was honestly shocked when I checked my email and saw all of them! **

**Thanks to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading!**

Link was met with one of the oddest classrooms he'd ever laid eyes upon. Wooden clocks were scattered about the different desks that students were seated at. Some miniature sculptures of animals on bookshelves dotted here and there along with lovely paintings spread on the walls. Fabric prints decorated the room, colourful shapes forming neat patterns and colourful images. It was a crafts class.

The students were seated in twos, Fledge sitting with a boy whose pale brown hair looked windswept but still managed to look good. Link imagined Fledge was feeling a little self-conscious. Zelda was sitting with the brown-eyed girl he'd seen earlier, both looking at Link with disapproving but amused smiles. And Ghirahim, sitting at the back by himself with his arms folded. He caught sight of Link and sat up a little straighter, grinning.

"Our first late!" Horwell said cheerfully behind him, and Link jumped, feeling his cheeks turn bright red. His eyes scanned frantically for Pipit, trying to make him out among the different pupils. Ignoring Zelda's sympathetic smile and Ghirahim's chilling one, he found his trusted friend in the middle row of desks, gesturing to the empty seat next to him with a rueful grin. Link heaved a sigh of relief and shuffled toward the desk, sitting himself down without another word and trying not to acknowledge the way his cheeks burned.

"What's up with you disappearing?" Pipit demanded in a half-whisper. "One minute you were there walking with us, and then you were gone."

"I… had to tie my lace," Link muttered. Pipit gave him a doubtful look but let the matter go anyways. That was one thing Link especially liked about his friend; he knew when enough was enough. They focused their attention on Horwell instead as he began filling them in on information about the class.

"Of course, most of you know me from last year," he said, his arms folded at the small of his back. "However I understand we have two new students, one of which you saw not too long ago."

A small ripple of laughter resonated among the students at that, eyes shifting to Link in amusement as he ducked his head down and tried not to meet their gazes.

"Why don't you introduce yourselves?" asked Horwell, then made an 'ah!' sound, clapping his hands together suddenly. "Actually, why doesn't everyone introduce themselves to the new guys?"

An audible groan followed that suggestion, and Link couldn't help smiling. That was one thing this place had in common with Howards, it seemed.

"I'll start," Horwell continued, oblivious to the protest all around him. "My name is Horwell. I like animals, and I like to sculpt! Now, how about… you!"

Link followed the finger Horwell pointed with and smiled when he saw it was Zelda. She turned to face Pipit and Link with a wide smile.

"Hi, I'm Zelda," she said happily. "I like to sing, and I play the harp. It's nice to meet you."

Horwell gave her an approving nod, and looked to Zelda's friend next. She gave Link and Pipit a friendly wave before she spoke, her voice sounding like chiming bells.

"I'm Kina," she told them. "I like to sing, too, and I dance."

Fledge introduced himself, and a grin was shared between the three boys, already having been introduced. Fledge's companion was called Keet, and Pipit was quick to jump to the conclusion that he had strong feelings for Kina.

More and more people introduced themselves in the same fashion, and Link felt his eyelids grow heavy after a few minutes of the same tedious introductions. Not many of the students were particularly interesting aside from one or two. He blinked himself out of a daydream when he heard Horwell call on the next student, shivering involuntarily when he heard a smooth voice from the back of the room.

"My name is Ghirahim," he said, and for politeness' sake, Link forced himself to turn around, nudging Pipit so he'd follow suit. Ghirahim was seated with his legs crossed, arms around his waist as he watched the new students with a smug expression that Link couldn't understand. It was a struggle to keep eye contact, though; Ghirahim's smile set him on edge.

"I enjoy fighting," he stated. Whether he was aware of the worried looks he received or not, Link didn't know. His smile just grew wider, and he drawled on with hardly a pause. "I take pleasure in… how should I put it… _getting to know people_, inside and out."

Beside him, Link felt Pipit stiffen. Zelda frowned, and Kina looked positively outraged. Even Keet looked a little disapproving. Ghirahim paid no attention to them at all; his eyes didn't move in the slightest until Horwell cleared his throat and the students turned in their seats. He fixed Link and Pipit with a strained, but welcoming smile.

"Oh! I'm Pipit," said Pipit. "Um, I like video games and… I don't know, sports?"

He earned approving nods from some of the boys in the class, while some of the girls looked at him with undisguised interest, Kina included.

Seeing it was his turn, Link cleared his throat nervously before he spoke up. He wasn't really sure of what to say about himself. "I'm Link. I, eh, I like video games too, and… reading."

As soon as he'd finished his brief introduction, he began staring furiously at the desk as he felt his cheeks threaten to warm up again. Horwell didn't seem to notice, though, carrying on with whatever it was he wanted to talk about.

"This class –as you might have already guessed- is an arts, crafts and design class," he explained. "I'll try to make the class as fun as it can possibly be, but that requires full co-operation from everyone here. Understand?"

"Yes," the students mumbled back. The effects of the first day back to school were evident on the tired expressions Link could see. Heads rested precariously on hands, tilted gently. Eyes beginning to glaze over, not focusing on Horwell chattering on about how paints were to be returned and that every student had to clean up whatever they happened to use. All of it common sense, and not really worth listening to.

Just when Horwell was beginning to ramble, straying away from the topic of art, the 'beep' sound was played out over a speaker in a corner of the room. The reactions were instantaneous. Students grabbed their bags, sprung out of their seats and began hurrying to the next class, all in one fluid movement. Link and Pipit joined them, filtering out into the hallway. Before long, Link found himself simply being towed along to the next classroom.

Pipit was pulled along with Link. He tapped Link's forearm lightly, trying to catch his attention.

"What's up?" Link asked.

"I've got to go to the bathroom," Pipit told him in a rush. "I'll ask around and find the class, don't worry. See you in a few!"

Link nodded, not letting the small flare of panic inside of him show as Pipit broke away from the students. Link followed the crowd to a wooden door painted green, with a name in that same language he couldn't read. The teens pushed into the room, eager to find their seats. Groose was among them, pushing for a desk near the windows on the right side of the room. Zelda sat in the front row, this time with a slender girl whose dark hair was tied into two neat braids.

Link managed to seat himself at the desk at the back of the class, taking a look around at the classroom while he waited for Pipit. To call it a classroom was inaccurate, he soon realized. It was more a laboratory than anything else, filled with plants and diagrams of the human body and charts with the elements on them. The desk at the front of the room was cluttered, with small potted plants lined up at the edge, all looking healthy and well-nourished. The place was like a research facility packed into a tiny room, the peace disturbed by chatting students.

He was about to rest his head on his hand and relax when a bag was dropped onto the floor with a loud 'bang', making him jump. He spun in his seat, expecting Pipit to be grinning at his reaction, and felt his stomach clench when he found Ghirahim staring down at him, his phone in hand. It was only now that Link realised how tall he was, unnervingly so.

Without another moment's delay, Ghirahim seated himself next to Link without a sound. Dropping his phone into his bag, he began taking out books, pens and pencils with cat-like grace, a smile on his face the whole time. Link just watched in silence, too stunned to say anything to him.

After Ghirahim had laid his things out neatly on the desk, he turned and looked at Link as if seeing him for the first time.

"Oh," he said breezily. "It's you. I don't mean to be rude, but you're sitting at my desk."

Link blinked, clearly astonished. Ghirahim had his own desk? What? Was it reserved or something?

"But I forgot you're new here," he continued, oblivious to Link's indignant expression. "Normally, seeing someone sit down in _my place_ would make me absolutely sick with anger. You see, on the very first day I walked into this classroom, I claimed this desk as my own. It's become sort of a trademark, if you will."

"I… W-Well I didn't-"

Ghirahim cut him off with a laugh that Link didn't understand. "Don't apologize. It's your first day, after all. You can sit with me, then. It'll be fabulous."

"What?" Link asked, caught off guard. This wasn't the Ghirahim that had scared him near senseless this morning. But Link didn't trust him at all. "N-No, I-"

"_I_ insist," Ghirahim interrupted, with firmness in his gaze that had Link shut up pretty quickly.

Pipit chose that moment to enter, looking around for Link and spotting him quickly. About to make his way over, he caught sight of Ghirahim and stopped in his tracks. An accusing look was sent in Link's direction, who gave him a pleading gaze in return.

Scratching the back of his neck, Pipit searched around for a free seat and scooted over to one on the other side of the room. Link heard him asking one of Zelda's friends, the fierce-looking red-haired girl, if he could sit with her, and she gladly accepted.

Feeling hollow, and certainly in no mood to talk to Ghirahim, he waited for the teacher to arrive with anxiety coursing through him. He was hunched slightly, arms wrapped tightly around his waist nervously. Ghirahim just positioned himself casually in the seat, twirling a pen between his fingers. Link spotted Zelda sending a nervous glance in his direction and averted his eyes hastily.

When the tall, white-haired man opened the door and stepped inside, Link couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. He felt ever so slightly more comfortable. The presence of a teacher always made him feel reassured.

"Hello, everyone," the teacher said warmly. "I'm Professor Owlan, but please, just call me Owlan. I will be teaching you the wonderful subject that is Science!"

His announcement was met with mixed reactions. Fledge sat up a little straighter, Groose grumbled under his breath. Zelda smiled eagerly, and Link saw Ghirahim roll his eyes exaggeratedly.

"_'Science'_'," Ghirahim practically spat. "They teach us nothing."

Link looked at him with narrowed eyes, unsure of what exactly Ghirahim meant. However, the white-clad male gave no reaction at all, just staring at Owlan sceptically with his intense gaze.

"Now, my memory isn't quite what it used to be," Owlan informed the students regretfully. "So, I would ask you to kindly remain seated with whoever it is you're sitting with right now. It will help me to remember your names, you see. I know I have them written down somewhere..."

Link's stomach twisted sickeningly, and he risked a glance at Ghirahim. He flinched when he saw the other teen give him an excited grin, flashing pearly teeth in amusement.

"Well, _this_ will be fun," he said happily. Link winced.

"For today, I want you all to take out a sheet and a pen, and find out as much as you can about the person you're sitting next to," Owlan instructed. Quiet laughter came from those who already knew each other well, which happened to be most of the class. Aside from Link and Pipit, they were all familiar with everyone in the class.

Link fumbled around in his bag and found an empty notebook, grabbing a blue pen and sitting to face Ghirahim with as blank an expression as he could manage. The pale teen already had his right hand lifted, black fountain pen poised over his lined sheet, indicating he was ready with a toss of his hair. A golden bracelet circled his thin right wrist, with no opening that Link could see.

"So," he began with a smile that almost seemed friendly. "Your name is Link, and you're sixteen years old."

Link frowned, watching in puzzlement as Ghirahim wrote it down in elegant handwriting without taking his eyes from Link. His dark eyes took in Link's clothing and he smirked.

"Doesn't appear to be wealthy," he continued, hand flying as he spoke. "Clothes are plain and are rumpled; clearly they've been worn more than once this week."

His eyes darted to Link's own. "Very slight wrinkling under the eyelids; a good sleeper. A small frown, though hardly more than a crease between the eyebrows. Seems nervous, understandable in my presence. His friends have told him about me, and he worries."

Curious eyes flickered to Link's hands. "Left-handed. Doesn't play an instrument –a shame- but spends a considerable amount of time playing… video games, wasn't that what you told Horwell?"

Not caring that his mouth was open wide enough to catch flies in; Link stared back at Ghirahim, shaking his head in denial.

"There's no way you can do that," Link spluttered, refusing to believe that someone could figure out so much about him in a mere five minute. "That's just... How?"

"Simple," Ghirahim replied. "I _did_ say I liked getting to know people, didn't I?"

Feeling uncomfortable all over again, Link glanced down as Ghirahim continued writing. When he lifted his hand again, Link read 'unobservant' with a scowl.

"My turn," Link muttered, glaring at Ghirahim, who smiled back, indifferent to the other's irritation.

"Such a nasty look you're giving me," he said, placing a hand on his chest in feigned offense. "You appear to be very fickle. So nervous one minute, and then giving me looks that could kill." And he wrote that down, too.

"What age are you?" Link asked, not wanting Ghirahim to get another word in. He'd said far too much already.

"Sixteen," he said in answer. "Sixteen years, nine months and three days, to be exact."

"… Right." Link just shook his head before he tried to think of another question. "Um… What's your favourite colour?"

"That's a tie between white, red, and black. All very appealing in their own ways, I suppose."

Link scribbled it all down, frustrated. Ghirahim regarded him with a self-satisfied smile, his right hand flowing across the page once more. When Link straightened, he lowered the pen and raised thin white eyebrows expectantly.

"How did you get so strong?" Link asked.

Ghirahim raised one eyebrow at the odd question. "I'm sorry?"

"When you pushed me," Link elaborated. "That hurt. Thank you, by the way."

Link couldn't help but smile at Ghirahim's slight frown. Though he appeared to be trying to hide it, Ghirahim's surprise was clear. This was the king of Her Grace's College, being questioned by a newcomer, a peasant. Link imagined he didn't like to be entreated with sarcasm.

"You're most certainly welcome," Ghirahim said. He was smiling, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. A gloved hand turned the page over to the other side and he was writing at an astounding speed, noting things about Link that he himself didn't even know. This time, Link didn't try to suppress his annoyance.

"Are you writing a book?" he demanded. "What could you even be getting from me? I haven't said anything at all!"

That infuriating smirk returned, one half hidden by that curtain of snow-white hair. Ghirahim adjusted himself in his seat, crossing his legs and looking at Link haughtily. He was back in his rightful position.

"You don't need to say anything," he said. "You're an open book. And the various expressions you've been showing off all day are _hilarious_ to watch. You blush a lot, too."

"Shut up," Link muttered, returning to his sheet and writing _'over-confident'_, purposefully making his writing bigger and thicker so Ghirahim would be sure to see it. But when he looked up, he saw the taller male was back to writing, again.

"Look, would you _please_ just tell me something about yourself so I can write it down?" Link asked, exasperated and growing tired of Ghirahim's cockiness.

"I can certainly see why you'd be interested in someone like me," he said with a grin, flicking his hair out of his face. Link sneaked a glance at a black diamond mark under the eye that was normally hidden from sight. Small, but enough to cover most of Ghirahim's pale cheek.

"You have a tattoo?" Link asked in surprise. Ghirahim gave him a sly half-smile in confirmation and Link scribbled that piece of information down.

"What other secrets do you have?"

Ghirahim's laugh was thoroughly delighted. It seemed he was pleased at someone taking this much interest in him.

"Honestly, I have to admire your bravery," he remarked. "Not many would ask me about my own family, let alone the secrets I keep."

His eyes flashed, and he bent himself slightly so his eyes were trained on Link's.

"I suppose I'll let you in on a well-known secret," he said with another wide smile, and moved closer, giving no sign that he was aware of Link's discomfort.

Link had to practically root himself to his seat in an effort not to cringe away from the close contact. Did Ghirahim have no concept of personal space?

Just when their noses were a mere inch apart and Link felt his cheeks turning red, Ghirahim breathed out softly and Link nearly choked on the smell that accompanied the brief rush of air.

Spluttering and coughing, he shoved himself out of reach and tried to ignore Ghirahim's manic laughter, which somehow went unnoticed by Owlan, who was busy with his own writing. When Link recovered, resisting the urge to spit, he fumbled for his pen and sent a glare in Ghirahim's direction before glowering down at his notebook.

"You smoke," he acknowledged dully, noting it.

"I do indeed. Not enough to make it obvious, though; I'm not _that_ stupid. Don't you smoke?"

"No!" Link was positively disgusted. Never once had the thought of smoking crossed his mind. The very idea made him shudder. He'd seen tar-coated lungs of smokers on those horrible advertisements they showed on television all the time. He was not going to smoke, and he couldn't believe that Ghirahim did. Though, he probably should have seen it coming anyway.

"You don't smoke… Scared, are we?" Ghirahim pressed. "Ever had any alcohol?"

"I've had champagne once or twice," Link muttered, and received exactly the response he expected: another cackle of laughter from Ghirahim.

"Oh, you'll be a _lot_ of fun," he said, pen returning to the page yet again.

"… What?" Link gave him a confused look, not knowing what Ghirahim meant at all.

"Fun to mess with," Ghirahim explained, and Link shifted in his seat, fidgeting with his pen. "Fun to _mess up_."

Link shot him a worried look. A dark smile tugged at Ghirahim's lips, sending a multitude of shivers up and down Link's spine. He was waiting for the smiling teen to say or do something else, when that 'beep' sound played out over the speaker yet again. He was safe.

Following the example of the other students, he rammed the notebook into his bag, and the pen followed soon after. Ghirahim, however, took his time in putting away his things before he stood up with a deep breath. Link's eyes fell on the sheet Ghirahim had been writing on and saw it was covered all over with the decorative handwriting.

"Good luck with your _documentary_," Link spat, attempting to make his way past Ghirahim. He didn't get very far before he was grabbed by his shoulder, again. Ghirahim looked intently down at him, face half-hidden by shadow.

"When we get our lunch break after this next class, wait fifteen minutes with your friends," he said, tone devoid of any emotion. "Then, make an excuse. I don't care what it is –you have to talk to a teacher, go to the bathroom, _something_- as long as you get out of their sight. Wait another five minutes and leave the school. If you leave through the front doors and keep turning right, you'll see two dumpsters. Green and black; you'll spot them right away. I expect you to be there, _on time_."

Squeezing Link's shoulder lightly, Ghirahim turned and stalked from the room without letting Link say a thing in response, pulling out his phone yet again. He didn't have time to blink twice before Pipit was at his side, looking at his friend in concern.

"You okay, Link?" he asked, giving Link a light nudge. Link gave a jump before offering Pipit a smile.

"No problem," he replied. "Ghirahim's just… a little weird is all."

"No kidding. Remember what Fledge said, Link. He's not our type. It's a shame you got stuck with him, though. Sorry I wasn't there on time. I can't believe Owlan's not going to let us move."

Link managed a smile, hiding his worry. "Oh, I'll be fine. How about you? The girl you're sitting with is pretty cute."

Pipit grinned. "Karane? She's awesome! She loves video games too, and man! She's strong. We had an arm-wrestling match and she beat me two out of three."

Link shook his head in mock sternness. "You're going soft, Pip. You've got to watch out for that."

Pipit just shrugged, and strolled off, knowing already that Link would follow. Link did just that with a smile of his own, admiring Pipit's nonchalance regarding… well, everything.

"_History_'s next!" said Pipit with a moan, turning to walk backwards so he could give Link a look of despair. "Oh, I'm not looking forward to this."

Link just laughed.


	3. Wine and Cigarettes

**Threads Of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! Here's chapter three! Two OCs will be introduced in this chapter, I hope you guys don't mind. Enjoy!**

**Thanks to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta reading!**

**Also, trigger warning for those it applies to: alcohol, smoking and vomiting toward the end of the chapter.****  
**

As soon as he stepped into his History classroom, Link was suddenly grabbed by his arm. He whirled around, and found himself staring at Zelda, who gave an amused laugh in return.

"Sorry if I scared you," she said. "I was just wondering if you wanted to sit with me, for this class?"

"Oh!" Link said hastily, catching a glimpse of Pipit standing in front of a huge poster, watching Link with a grin. After his friend gave him a thumbs-up as a way of saying 'okay', Link smiled at Zelda.

"Sure."

"Great!" She took him by the arm again and brought Link to a pair of desks right in front of what could only be the teacher's desk. A projector hung over their heads, pointed toward the wall behind the desk. There were prints of maps and pictures of important-looking people dotted around the white-plastered walls.

With a grimace, Link sat down and gave Zelda as enthusiastic a smile he could manage. He'd never liked being where teachers had a clear view of him.

"So, you're Link," said Zelda. "How do you like the school so far?"

"It's different," Link said simply. "The teachers, you know, and the students."

Zelda nodded. "Transferring from one school to another can be difficult."

Link barked a dry laugh at that. "I wouldn't call Howard's a school, to be honest with you. It's a wonder the teachers weren't kicked out, and some of the students too."

Zelda offered him a sympathetic smile just as the door was flung open; allowing one of the biggest men Link had ever seen to walk in. He was dressed in a huge orange shirt, with a red waistband just barely circling his massive abdomen. His hair was more grey than blond and his firm gaze was stern, but also gentle: The History teacher, Gaepora, and the Headmaster.

He remembered what Fledge had said about Zelda being the Headmaster's daughter and tilted his head to compare her with this giant of a man. Shaking his head, he failed to see how this man was Zelda's father. Zelda was youthful, and –Link blushed, mentally scolding himself for even thinking it- she was quite beautiful.

Trying to stop himself going scarlet, he did a quick scan of the room before Gaepora introduced himself. Ghirahim wasn't anywhere to be seen – a relief. Fledge and Pipit were sitting with each other. Pipit was slouched in his seat and Fledge was urging him to get up. Link couldn't help smiling to himself at that. Pipit would never change.

"Greetings to you all," Gaepora called, his voice booming, loud enough to make Link turn his head sharply in order to meet his gaze.

"I am Gaepora, as most of you know. I'm introducing myself for the sake of our newest students, Link and Pipit. Am I right?"

"Yep," said Pipit. "I'm Pipit."

"And I'm Link," he muttered inaudibly, and then cleared his throat. "I'm Link."

Gaepora nodded, looking him up and down before shooting a quick glance at Zelda, who just smiled happily back at him.

"I will be teaching you History," he announced, clapping his hands together. The sound bounced off the walls of the room, making Link jump a little. Zelda stifled a giggle as her father continued talking.

"As it's your first day back, I'm not going to go too hard on you," Gaepora said with a small smile that was met with sighs of relief. "But remember that I expect excellent behaviour from this group. That goes double for you, Groose!"

Link heard someone grumbling a couple of desks back. It was Groose, of course. Link craned his neck and saw him sitting between the short, dark-haired boy and the tall blond one. All three of them wore scowls.

"Now, why don't you talk amongst yourselves for a while, until I sort out some paperwork. Keep quiet, though, no shouting across the room to one another."

As if on cue, the buzz of various conversations immediately started up all over the room. Zelda twisted in her seat so she faced Link fully. Her hand, circled by two gold and blue bracelets, rested gently on her desk.

"My dad isn't as scary as he seems," Zelda told Link with a grin. "He's a softie, really. Just pay attention and listen to whatever he's rambling on about, and you'll be fine."

"I'll try," Link replied. "I haven't always been great at paying attention to things, especially History."

"Well, you'd better make an effort," Zelda laughed. "Or there could be trouble ahead."

Link grinned at her. He liked Zelda; she was fun and had a great personality, as far as he could see.

"I saw you sitting with Ghirahim in Science," she stated, keeping her voice low, and Link restrained the urge to bite his lower lip. Zelda's eyes held concern, clear as day.

"He might seem like a nice person, Link," she continued. "He certainly has a sort of charm, but it's a façade, really. He's… he's a dark person. I hate saying it, but he is."

Link raised his eyebrows before he spoke quietly, not wanting Gaepora to overhear. "Fledge told me he's sort of the king around here."

At that remark, Zelda tensed up, frowning, before she regained her composure. Sitting up a little straighter, she spoke with a sort of authority that Link didn't expect.

"That's what Ghirahim makes people believe," she said. "Ghirahim makes people believe a lot of things about him that they would never believe otherwise. He could likely make people believe things about themselves that they'd never imagined before."

Unable to respond to that description, Link thought back to what Ghirahim had said about going to those dumpsters at break, and tried to hide his shame. He didn't like admitting it, but he was tempted to go, even if it was just to see what went on there that Ghirahim wanted him to see.

Making an effort to keep his expression neutral, Link shrugged. "I think I'll be fine, Zelda. Thanks for looking out for me, by the way."

She gave him a warm smile. "No problem! You seem like an interesting person. Maybe you'll come hang out with us sometime soon?"

Link blinked in surprise at the offer. "Uh, sure. Why not?"

"Cool!" said Zelda. "There are some of us going into town on Saturday. I'll get Karane to call Pipit or something, and you can meet us there."

"Sounds like it'll be great," Link assured her, and then glanced up when the 'beep' played out to signal the end of the class. Too absorbed in his paperwork, Gaepora didn't even notice the students getting up to leave.

"Thank the heavens," Zelda said with a sigh of relief. "I'm starving!"

Link nodded in agreement, though it was half-hearted. He glanced up at the clock. It was just gone thirty minutes past twelve. The timer had begun; he had fifteen minutes.

Wait. Was he really going to go? Fledge, Pipit, and now Zelda, had all warned him against Ghirahim. And yet, he was still considering meeting up with him. He was intrigued, curious. He just wanted to find out who Ghirahim really was, behind all of the images and titles given to him by other students. He wanted to find out what went on at the dumpsters Ghirahim had described to him.

Zelda gave him a wave before she left the room, Karane and the girl with braided hair – Orielle, Link thought- rushing up to her with excited chatter. Link watched them go, a growing knot of worry forming inside of him. Pipit and Fledge walked up to the front of the class to greet him, and he fell in with them as they made their way to the school's cafeteria.

It was a massive room, longer than it was wide with walls painted blue and white. Tables were laid out everywhere, stools surrounding them in semicircles. The conversations of at least two hundred students drifted to Link's ears, drowning out the sound coming from the kitchen where hot food was being prepared.

They lined up to get their lunches, and Fledge gave them the basic idea of what the food was like in Her Grace's College.

"You don't want to get the pizza," Fledge said. "It's pretty much a sheet of cardboard with some ketchup spread over it. The 'lasagne' is some under-cooked meat with packaged cheese melted over the top of it. Pasta is probably the best option, if you ask me. It's not that bad."

"Pasta for me, then," said Pipit with a firm nod.

"Same here," said Link absently. Pipit glanced at him worriedly.

"Link, are you okay? You're real quiet."

Link smiled, waving a hand in feigned nonchalance. "Fine, Pipit, don't worry about me."

They got their pasta – served in a makeshift tinfoil container with a plastic fork- and found a table hugging the right wall of the cafeteria. Link ate in silence, playing with his food and half-listening to Pipit and Fledge's conversation about the teachers. His eyes were trained solely on the clock that hung on the wall opposite him.

"I like Horwell," Pipit was saying. "But Owlan's a bit weird, I think."

Fledge just smiled. "Yeah, Owlan can take some getting used to. What do you think, Link?"

Link snapped out of his daze and his face went blank, trying to remember who they were talking about.

"Oh, he's okay," he said. "As far as teachers go."

He glanced back at the clock and had to suppress a panicked squeak. It was time to go. He stood up, bracing his hands against the table as he looked down at Pipit and Fledge, who stared back at him in confusion.

"I forgot," said Link, trying to think quickly, "I meant to ask Horwell about… clubs, in the school."

"Since when do you take an interest in clubs?" Pipit demanded, but Link was already making his way out of the cafeteria, refraining from looking back at his friends and feeling guilt inside him like a knife.

He made his way in the crowd of students, mumbling apologies when he had to push past someone to get to the front doors. Stepping outside, he felt a breeze wash over him, cool and crisp. Taking deep breaths, he walked around the school's dull, grey buildings, taking every right turn along the way and scanning with his eyes for any sign of danger.

_"Don't mess with Ghirahim."_

He turned right.

_"He's a dark person."_

He kept walking, unable to stop himself.

About to round a corner, he heard the sound of someone laughing, and a 'whoop' was carried along the breeze to his ears. Unsure, and even more nervous than before, Link steadied himself before rounding the corner. If he'd planned this out correctly, he was here-

"Right on time."

Link's eyes darted upward and he found Ghirahim smiling at him, his long arms out to either side. His eyes flashed and suddenly he had Link by the arm, steering him around the corner. As they arrived at where Link was supposed to be, Ghirahim waved one arm in a grand gesture.

"Voila!" he shouted. And Link quickly took in the scene before him with wide eyes.

A teenager with long red hair swept into a ponytail was grinning at Link from atop one of the huge dumpsters, perched on top of its black lid. His eyes were a shocking blue, looking link up and down intently. He was dressed in a jarring shirt of blue, red and yellow, with lime green trousers that came just short of his ankles. His upper body appeared well-toned and accustomed to lifting heavy weights. Between his thin lips, a cigarette was balanced precariously.

He held up a cracked wine glass with a cheer, swishing the amber liquid inside, and touched his glass with the one held by his dark-haired companion. This teen was shorter, with black hair that spiked out in every direction. His grey eyes were bright and mischievous, eyeing Link with interest. His red shirt had no sleeves and was more than a little big on him. His denim jeans clung to wiry legs, and a tanned hand gripped his glass tightly. His laugh was surprisingly deep, and melodious.

"This is the new guy you were talking about, then?" asked the red-haired one, flicking a loose strand of hair out of his face.

"Indeed, Ardaia," Ghirahim replied. Link looked at him in panic, then back to Ardaia, who was pointing a long finger at the spiky-haired one.

"This is Rynae," he said, his voice reedy. "And like Ghirahim just said, I'm called Ardaia. What might your name be?"

Link cleared his throat nervously, glancing at Ghirahim. The taller male gave him a smile in encouragement.

"Um, Link," he said.

Rynae grinned, and Ardaia laughed aloud. "Link, simple and sweet, eh?"

"Oh, this one's pretty simple, all right," came Ghirahim's smooth voice. Link glared at him despite himself, and Ardaia clapped his hands in amusement.

"A spark of defiance, I like it."

Link crossed his arms, taking a step away from Ghirahim with a scowl. Rynae shook his head, still smiling his wide smile.

"I think our newcomer should be entreated to some rosé wine," he suggested, and Ghirahim gave a delighted laugh.

"Of course," he agreed, while Link shook his head, mouth agape.

"I'm not drinking wine, Ghirahim," he said, now seriously regretting coming here. Fledge and everyone else had been right; he wasn't supposed to be here!

He turned to walk away and was grasped by the hem of his shirt by a firm hand. Exasperated, he twisted to look at Ghirahim pleadingly.

"I don't want to drink it, Ghirahim; you can't make me."

Ghirahim's eyes gleamed. "Oh, I can. And unless you want to discover what will happen if you don't drink it, you'll do so happily."

Link flinched at the warning, and even Ardaia and Rynae went quiet. His heart was racing, trying to hold Ghirahim's gaze and failing miserably. With a sigh, feeling thoroughly ashamed, he nodded his head.

It was like flicking a switch. Ghirahim's face brightened and he took Link by the arm, gently but also assuring Link that he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Guiding him to where Rynae was sitting on the dumpster, Ghirahim leaped up and landed neatly on top of it. He beckoned with his thin fingers for Link to do the same, who just looked back blankly.

Ardaia grinned. "A short one, go on and help him up, Ghirahim, it's the least you can do."

With a roll of his eyes, Ghirahim leaned down and Link grimaced, taking the gloved hand in his own and allowing himself to be pulled up like a child.

"Sacré bleu," Ghirahim said with a smirk.

He found himself seated between Ghirahim and Rynae, his legs dangling over the edge of the dumpster's lid with theirs. Link had never been embarrassed about his height before, but now, seated with Ghirahim and his friends, he felt miniscule.

Ardaia reached behind him, brandishing a large bottle of wine, the same orange colour as the substance in his glass.

Rynae gave Link a nudge and handed him a tall wine glass, and Link accepted it reluctantly, shaking his head as he observed how elaborate this all seemed. For a group of what he would normally call junkies, Link could honestly say he hadn't been expecting this.

Ghirahim took the glass from his hand, flashing another smile, and passed it to Ardaia. The redhead poured out enough of the wine to fill half the glass, the action graceful; practised.

Link took it from him and stared down at the golden liquid, his lip curling a little in disgust. He glanced at Rynae, whose excited grey eyes were alert and eager. The teen nodded at him, spurring him on.

With a heaved sigh, Link closed his eyes and took a large gulp of the stuff, hoping to down it quickly and just get it over with. And, oh, the flavour hit him like a brick. It was like nothing he'd ever tasted before, sweet and sour and sharp all at once. How Ghirahim enjoyed this sort of stuff, Link had no idea. Eyes wide, he forced it down and tried not to think about the fact that he'd succumbed to some sort of peer pressure, albeit from strangers.

While he reflected on stories he'd heard about people being pushed into these kinds of situations, Ghirahim, Ardaia and Rynae were pouring glasses for themselves as they took in Link's reaction to the wine.

"What do you think?" asked Rynae, wrapping an arm around his knees as he took a sip from his own stained glass. Link shuddered as he lowered the glass.

"It's weird," he said dully. He barely registered Ghirahim draping an arm around his shoulders, his voice coming to Link as if from a distance.

"Wine is an acquired taste," he said softly. "There's still some left; go ahead and finish it."

Link shook his head, not wanting this at all, but he felt a hand close around his own and the glass was brought to his lips again. Hating himself for it, Link finished off the wine. The glass was lowered and he gasped, the aftertaste of the wine leaving a strange sensation all over the inside of his mouth.

"You like it?" Ardaia's voice called. It took Link a moment to spot him on the ground, rummaging around in some sort of rucksack. Unable to focus, Link just watched him wearily as he fetched another bottle. The wine inside looked a lot darker.

"Syrah," Ardaia announced, clambering back onto the dumpster. He twisted open the lid with ease and began refilling the glasses. "You'll like this one, Link."

Rynae straightened himself and gave Link's back a pat. "Wine's nicer than it seems at first," he said softly. "I'm sure that eventually you'll come to like it."

Not in the mood to argue, Link just nodded. Ghirahim offered him a tall glass of the red wine, and Link stared desperately at him, begging to be allowed escape.

For a moment, Ghirahim actually seemed like he was about to let him go, but then Link felt the glass pressed into his hand.

"Try this one," he ordered. "I promise you'll enjoy it."

Blinking away tears that threated to well up, Link lifted the glass a little and looked at his dim reflection in the glass. He'd abandoned Fledge and Pipit for this? What kind of a person did that make him?

With a shaky breath, he took a sip of the wine, squeezing his eyes shut as he drank. This wine wasn't quite as strong as the rosé, but that didn't mean he liked it much. As he downed it gradually, Ghirahim watched approvingly, never removing his arm from Link's shoulders.

After an eternity, the glass was finally empty. Link couldn't focus properly; he could just make out Ardaia's bright clothes and Ghirahim's white trousers, standing out to him among the blurriness.

"Link," Rynae's voice floated along, meeting Link's ears through a haze of dizziness. "You want a cigarette?"

"Light him one," Ghirahim ordered. Link couldn't shake his head; it felt like it was stuffed with cotton wool.

Rynae fumbled around with the pockets of his jeans, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. He lit one and handed it to Link, who, in his disorientation, dropped it to the ground where it hissed loudly. As if on cue, Rynae jumped down and stamped it out.

He lit another one and handed it to Ghirahim instead. Taking it between two fingers, Ghirahim turned Link so he was looking directly at him.

"Please…" Link protested weakly. "Please don't…"

"Shh," said Ghirahim softly, sounding surprisingly gentle. "Just one, Link. Just one, that's all."

The urge to cry overwhelmed Link as Ghirahim placed the cigarette at his lips, and he took it with trembling fingers. He felt tears on his cheeks but paid no attention to them. He braced himself, took in a sharp breath, and-

And choked, gagged, coughing violently as he tried not to drop the cigarette on his shirt. He just managed to keep it in his grip as he hacked and wheezed. Suddenly unable to cope, he lurched forward, and the wine he'd drank, as well as the pasta from earlier, came up in a mess, hitting the ground below him with a sickening splat.

Instantly, hands were on his back and forearms, steadying him and supporting him. Link found himself seated upright, taking in shuddering breaths and restraining himself from dry-retching. Rynae looked him up and down, a tanned hand wiping sweat from his forehead.

Ardaia was packing away the wine, shooting worried glances at Link as he did so. The packet of cigarettes had disappeared too.

Ghirahim's hand rested between his shoulder blades, rubbing circles into the folds of Link's shirt as he shook.

"Ghirahim," Rynae said, his voice low. "I'm going to go and get something to clean him up. I'll be back in a few."

Link saw Rynae slide off of the dumpster, his wiry limbs tensed as he jogged around to the front of the school. Ardaia replaced him at Link's side, his blue eyes concerned.

"What are we going to tell his teachers?"

"The truth," Ghirahim replied. "He got sick."

Link jerked back to the present, pushing away from Ghirahim abruptly and trying to ignore the way his head ached.

"Don't you ever make me do that again," he growled, shoving himself away and bumping into Ardaia, who leaned back a little in response, eyebrows raised. Even Ghirahim looked a little surprise at his short outburst.

"Don't make me smoke another cigarette," Link demanded, though it was more of a plea than anything else. "I don't want wine either."

Ghirahim watched him intently, his hands folded delicately and going nowhere near Link.

"Link, it was your first time," he said. "You just-"

"I said don't," Link cut him off. He tried to push himself off of the dumpster and hit the ground too hard, stumbling forward not so gracefully. In a flash, he was grabbed by his midsection and held still.

"Link," Ghirahim's voice was at his ear, speaking in hushed tones. "If you tell anyone what happened here, I can guarantee there'll be trouble. I want you back here tomorrow at the same time, and inevitably, you'll start liking this."

Rynae arrived back at that moment, tissue paper and wipes in tow. He positioned himself in front of Link and began dabbing at his face, clearing up Link's skin with a soft touch. Ardaia was there too, handing Link a bottle of water.

Link took a few gulps and shivered, the coolness of the water having a calming effect on him. Ghirahim was back in place again, his hands resting on Link's shoulders and keeping him weighed down.

"It won't be as bad next time," he told Link. "If anyone asks you, you tell them you went to the bathroom and got sick. Blame it on the food from the cafeteria; even the teachers will believe that. Besides, what I just saw did not look pleasant."

Despite how upset he was, Link laughed dryly. When they'd decided he was decent, Rynae surprised Link by giving him a kiss on his right cheek. He took a half-step backward and looked solemnly at Link.

"Until the next time," he said quietly, with just a hint of a smile.

Ardaia stepped forward and Ghirahim moved back to make room for him. He kissed Link's left cheek and gave him a reassuring smile.

"Until the next time," he repeated. Link just watched them blankly, unused to whatever this was.

Ghirahim stepped forward and looked Link square in the eye. He smiled as he leaned down to kiss his forehead, spreading his arms as he took a step backward.

"Until the next time, Link."

Without anything being said, Rynae took Link's arm gently and guided him back to the front of the school, in no rush. They walked in silence for a while until Link finally asked the question that had been on his mind since he left.

"Why did you kiss me?"

Rynae looked at him as if he had two heads, his dark eyebrows raised.

"What do you mean?" he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

"Well, I mean…" Link felt his cheeks turning red. "It's not every day a group of teenage guys start giving you kisses."

"It's completely normal," Rynae said. "If you like something, or someone, why not treat it with affection?"

Link was too puzzled to think of a way to respond. He knew that if people cared for each other, they might embrace. But, a hug was all Link would have ever expected to receive from anyone. Not a kiss from a total stranger.

"I… I see," he said, though not actually understanding Rynae's theory at all.

They arrived at the front doors after another moment, and Rynae gave Link a sympathetic smile.

"Ghirahim's not all that he seems," he told Link. "Please come tomorrow. If you're worried about being caught, don't get into a panic. We've been doing this for about three years now and no one's ever even mentioned it."

"I'm not worried," Link lied. "I just… I don't want to lower myself to that level."

Rynae tensed for a brief moment, and when he spoke, his voice held an edge of anger. "No one is as high and mighty as they appear, Link. You might be the leader of your own group of friends, but when you look at the big picture, you'll find that you aren't so great."

Link blinked, astonished, but before he could respond, Rynae had already turned around and was walking away swiftly.

Shaking his head and swaying on his feet, Link pushed open the doors and almost embraced the familiarity of a school environment, however new it was to him.

Avoiding a run-in with Pipit and Fledge, he made it to the bathroom without too much trouble. Bracing his hands against the sparkling white sink, he looked at himself in the mirror.

Bloodshot eyes stared back at him. Sweaty, blond locks clung to his forehead. His cheeks were flushed red, and he was shivering like it was already the middle of December. His green shirt was stained, and there was a faint smell of smoke, rosé wine and his own vomit, all mingling together and assailing his nostrils.

"Jeez," Link breathed, running a hand through his hair and trying to take deep breaths.

All too soon, the 'beep' played out over a nearby speaker, and Link groaned, not wanting this at all. His mind was too fuzzy, he was seeing through blurred eyes and fighting to keep himself standing. His insides felt like they were hollow, and his stomach growled at him hungrily.

"This will be hell," Link whispered to himself, pushing open the bathroom door and walking on tired feet to the next class.


	4. Brawling

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Hi, guys! Here's the fourth chapter! Thank you for all the reviews and follows and favourites! They mean a lot.**

"Oh God, Link!"

Pipit climbed out of his seat, rushing to his friend as he stumbled into the English classroom, one hand pressed against his forehead. He looked up when he heard Pipit's voice, his face pallid and exhausted.

Other students in the classroom had sat up a little straighter to get a look at Link, who gazed back at them with sullen eyes. Zelda had a hand cupped to her mouth, and Kina looked extremely sympathetic. The teacher, a middle-aged man with a headband wrapped around his forehead, turned in his seat and fixed Link with a worried look.

"Link, what happened to you?" Pipit asked, frowning as he assessed his friend's condition. Link looked like he might cry; his eyes certainly looked troubled.

The teacher stood, too, placing a strong hand on Link's arm to balance him.

"Son, do you need to go home? You look awful," he said, concerned.

"Thanks," said Link, his voice hoarse but still with a twinge of sarcasm. He sighed. "I'll be fine. Can I just sit down?"

The older man looked doubtful, but after receiving a shrug from Pipit, he nodded consent.

"Alright then. I'm called Jakamar, by the way. You sit yourself down with your friend Pipit, here. You guys are the new ones, right?"

Link nodded, his head down. Pipit showed him to the empty seat next to his, watching as Link practically fell into the seat with a sigh.

"So, I'll be teaching you all English," Jakamar said, trying to sound enthusiastic despite the anxious glances he sent in Link's direction every five seconds. "I hope that, as a new teacher, I'll be able to…"

Link tuned out then, slouching in his seat and feeling his eyelids beginning to shut. He sighed regretfully when Pipit gave him a gentle tap on his shoulder.

"Link," he urged, gazing concernedly at his friend. "What happened to you, after you left us?"

Link went even paler, if that were possible. He shot a hesitant look at Pipit before he spoke.

"I told you, I went to look for Horwell," he muttered. Pipit shook his head.

"Link, I've known you for years, and I know you're definitely not telling the truth."

"I went to the bathroom and got sick," Link said, his fingers drumming against the desk relentlessly. "First day nerves, I guess. It's a new school and all; a little scary, you know? No need to worry, Pipit; it's nothing contagious."

He barked a dry laugh that sounded more like a wheeze than anything else.

"Is that… _smoke_?" Pipit asked, his nose scrunching up in distaste. Link's head whipped to fix Pipit with a frown, though it wavered.

"Of course not," he said slowly, sounding distant. "Why on earth would you smell smoke from me?"

"I'm not saying you're a junkie, Link, but whatever it is, it doesn't smell too good," Pipit said, holding his hands up in defeat. His normally cheerful blue eyes were apprehensive. Link was aware of his friend's alarm, but he couldn't care less at that moment because right then, the door was pushed open, and Ghirahim sauntered in, as casual as ever, if not even more so. A smile lit up his face, and his eyes looked like they were literally sparkling. Link knew instantly that he was drunk.

Jakamar looked at him in a mixture of surprise and confusion that matched the expression of every student in the room except for Link. Ghirahim fixed Jakamar with a grin and bowed, actually bowed, spreading his arms out to the sides and looking at the perplexed man maliciously.

"Excuse me," Jakamar said as Ghirahim straightened. "But, err, who are you?"

"I am called Ghirahim," he replied, his tone regal, and was already walking toward the back of the classroom before Jakamar had time to think of something to say. Ghirahim passed Link and purposefully delayed himself, bending so that, to Jakamar, it looked like he was stopping to tie his laces or something of the sort.

Ghirahim looked up at Link and smiled slowly, widely, taking in Link's discomfort with alarming eagerness. Link took deep, shaky breaths, avoiding eye contact and willing Ghirahim to leave him be. His wish was granted after an uncomfortable twenty seconds. Ghirahim swept by with a pleased smirk, his feet tapping lightly against the wooden floor until he paused at Groose, who was sitting at the back of the class with his cohorts.

Other students had twisted around in their seats to follow Ghirahim's movements, and even Jakamar was watching with raised eyebrows. But Link forced himself to remain in place. He wouldn't give Ghirahim the satisfaction of knowing he'd attracted Link's attention. He just listened instead.

"You're sitting in my seat," came Ghirahim's soft voice. "And you know just how _angry_ that makes me."

Link waited for the reply, his fingers knotting together on the desk in front of him.

"What? I was sitting here first!" Groose exclaimed, and Link shook his head. This could be bad, if Groose didn't shut up soon. Link flinched when he heard what could only be Ghirahim's fist slamming down onto the desk.

"Well, now I'm going to sit here," said Ghirahim. "So if you, along with your dim-witted companions, could _kindly_ get your asses off of those seats-"

"Boys, boys!" Jakamar interrupted hastily, getting up and making his way to the back of the classroom. Excited whispers were exchanged among the students, who at this stage had all turned to observe. Link tried to focus on the clock, watching the second hand make its way around. But he couldn't block out everything, especially not the pounding of his head and the growling noises his stomach was making.

"Don't involve yourself in this, old man," Ghirahim ordered, and Link heard Jakamar's noise of astonishment. "You're new here, unlike me. And whether you want to believe it or not, I could seriously hurt you. So leave me to my own affairs, please, and save me the trouble of showing you where you belong."

When at last Link couldn't take it, he turned around and met Ghirahim's dark grin. As if his stomach hadn't felt bad enough already; it was clenching and twisting in the most unpleasant ways imaginable. Still, he refused to back down now.

Jakamar just blinked, stunned. That was when Zelda chose to stand up, hands planted on her hips and an angry glare directed at Ghirahim, who just laughed.

"Oh, here comes trouble," he said, mocking. His smooth voice was thick with alcohol, and though he usually pronounced every syllable clearly and sharply, his words slurred ever so slightly. And yet he was still able to set everyone in the room on edge. Except Zelda, it seemed.

"Ghirahim," she acknowledged, furious. Link watched her as she stepped past a shocked Jakamar to look Ghirahim in the eyes, tilting her head back a little to do so.

"It's one thing for you to harass the students here," Zelda seethed, "but teachers? What is wrong with you?"

Ghirahim just shook his head, his half-smile never faltering. Zelda kept up the eye contact; something Link had to admire about her. He hadn't known Zelda could be so fierce.

"You think that because your father is the big boss, you're in a position to speak to me?" Ghirahim asked, placing his gloved hands on his hips in imitation of Zelda, who gave him a glare in return.

"Yes, I do happen to think just that," she replied. "In fact, Ghirahim, I think everyone in this room –in this school- has the right to speak up to you."

Ghirahim said nothing, just lowered himself to Zelda's level so he could stare directly into her eyes. He grinned devilishly, widened his eyes dramatically, and whispered, "_Boo_!"

Zelda took a step backward, regaining composure a little too late to hide the way her breath caught, and Ghirahim laughed like a maniac, throwing his head back as his body shook.

Zelda made a sound of frustration, her back so straight it looked to be made of iron. "We're _sick_ of this, Ghirahim. Something's going to be done about your behaviour, mark my words."

Ghirahim just raised an eyebrow. "Oh? You're going to tell your Daddy? Dear little Zelda, are you familiar with the concept of blackmail?"

Zelda gave him a curt nod.

"Well then, if you and your little friends want to have a nice stay at this precious school, you might want to keep your big mouth shut and stay out of my way."

By now, Jakamar was well and truly speechless. It took him a moment to gather himself, and Link watched with growing dread as he stepped around Zelda and Ghirahim took notice of him.

"Now, kids," he began. "Let's not-!"

"Didn't you hear me the first time?" Ghirahim demanded, his drunken tone shifting to one of annoyance. "_Stay out of the way_."

He pushed past Jakamar, breezed past Zelda and-

And before he knew what he was doing, Link was standing in front of him, blocking the way. Ghirahim's expression soured, but a smile replaced his frown more quickly than it had appeared.

"Aren't you looking awfully happy today, Link?" he asked. "So good to see you this eager on the first day."

Link swayed where he stood, and Pipit was biting his lower lip as he watched, but the teen managed to keep his footing and give Ghirahim a glare.

"Leave them alone," he ordered feebly. "You shouldn't… you shouldn't be doing this."

Ghirahim raised an eyebrow, stretched out a hand delicately, and pushed Link's shoulder. Much to his embarrassment and dismay, Link couldn't stop himself from toppling right over. To his relief, nobody laughed. In fact, Zelda stormed right on over and offered him a hand, pulling him up gently before she shot a dark look at Ghirahim.

"Would you just give it a break?" she demanded.

"I was about to," Ghirahim countered. "But your little friend here got in the way."

"He's a new student; there's no reason for you to be bullying him around."

"Oh, _please_," said Ghirahim. "I'm just as nice as any of you louts. Now, if you'll excuse me."

He swept past Link and Zelda with a flick of his hair, throwing the door open and striding out with his head held high.

Jakamar looked at Link, at Zelda and then back again.

"Does he..?" Jakamar struggled to finish his question. "I mean, is he always like this?"

"Unfortunately," Zelda muttered, eyes scanning Link worriedly. Awkwardly, he shrugged her off and gave her a hasty smile.

"I'm okay, Zelda," he said, making his way back to his seat.

Zelda kept her eyes trained on him until he was seated, before returning to her own place next to Orielle. Groose had a triumphant smirk on his face, as if he'd achieved something by remaining in his seat. Jakamar flopped into his chair, already looking worn out.

The rest of the day, for Link, passed in a sort of blur. Maths was taught by the near-emotionless Fi, who wore a strange blue diamond around her neck and whose voice was melodic and commanding all at once. And boy did she like Maths. Link's headache had grown at least three times bigger thanks to the endless drone. Fi was the only teacher who'd gotten straight to business.

Sitting on the bus with Pipit, he leaned back and almost sank into the chair. Pipit had his head resting against his own rock hard chair, chattering away about the first day and pausing every minute or two to check up on Link's condition.

When they got home, Mallara insisted Link take some vitamins and medicine that tasted like sour milk before sending him straight to bed. Despite how tired he was, Link ended up tossing and turning until dinnertime, where Link didn't eat much at all, insisting he was all right, that he just needed to rest until the morning.

He didn't sleep a wink that night.

* * *

"Link?"

Pipit gazed at his friend, dumbfounded. Link was in the kitchen, spooning cereal into his mouth with rapidly-closing eyes. A mug of coffee was steaming next to his bowl. He wore a faded green-checkered shirt and the same jeans from yesterday. Pipit joined him at the table, pouring out a bowl of cereal for himself and assessing his friend's condition.

Link gave him a sleepy smile, his head resting on his hand as he finished his cereal. The wrinkles under his eyelids were pronounced, and the blue irises looked even more tired than usual.

"Morning," he mumbled, taking a drink of coffee before he stretched his arms out with a yawn.

"You feeling any better?" asked Pipit. Link nodded.

"Yeah. Like I said, don't worry. We've got another day ahead of us, right? Might as well get started."

And they did. The bus arrived at the school at exactly the same time it had yesterday, Link and Pipit met up with Fledge and they headed to Maths to start the day.

Fi was wearing an odd shawl that was split equally into purple and blue, with an almost metallic sheen to it. Link and Fledge thought it was a little jarring to look at, but Pipit seemed to like it well enough. But he never stopped complaining about how boring Fi was.

"Does she ever pause for breath?" he demanded as Fi talked on and on about surds and cubed roots and everything in between.

Link just shrugged. "Doesn't look like it."

It turned out that Fi would be the first teacher to give them homework, and there was a lot. Link stuffed his things into his bag and joined in the moans of other students. Settling back into school was always difficult, the first week especially.

They made it to Horwell's class just before the dark-haired man stepped inside. He began doling out paintbrushes and huge sheets of paper, ordering them to draw whatever they wanted. An assessment, he described it, of their creativity.

They worked throughout the whole of the class, Pipit choosing to paint a huge, fire-breathing dragon, while Zelda opted for giant birds that were flying among clouds. Link was working on a forest scene, where all sorts of wild things were growing. Having spent all of his life in town, he'd only really gathered what he knew of forests from books or documentary. Even though it was inaccurate –he'd never heard of mushrooms that were half the size of a man- he liked it, and Horwell had nothing but good things to say about it.

All of the paintings were pinned to the walls of the classroom with the others already there, and the students took time to appreciate each piece. From depictions of busy shopping centres to detailed pictures of insects or snakes, there was genuine admiration shared by the students.

Link stood with Pipit, who was pointing out an amazing self-portrait by Kina, and jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Link didn't even need to turn around to know it was Ghirahim, but he spun on his heel anyway and didn't return the smile he was offered.

"You painted the forest, am I right?" asked Ghirahim, and Link nodded reluctantly, glaring when he saw the amused look on Ghirahim's face.

"Yeah, go ahead and laugh at it," Link grumped, and Ghirahim just laughed even more.

"It's good," he insisted. "I really do think it looks quite good. Don't worry your precious little head about my odd sense of humour. I'm not laughing at _you_."

"Which one is yours?" Link gestured vaguely to the rest of the paintings. Ghirahim's brown eyes gleamed, and he pointed over Link's head with a gloved finger. Link turned to follow the direction he was pointing and stared in astonishment.

There was no mistaking who the person in the painting was. It was done in profile, but there were two prominent features that made it all too easy for Link to recognize the teenager. The blonde hair and blue eyes were blatantly obvious to him, though the person's gaze was directed downwards; Link was a fool if he didn't immediately know who it was.

After all, looking at a painting of yourself was just like looking into a mirror, wasn't it?

"You… You painted me?" Link managed, spinning once more to face Ghirahim, who looked close to jumping up and down, he was so delighted.

"Every time I see you, you look so confused and lost," Ghirahim stated. "But no matter how miserable you may be, your eyes never fail to strike me. And they complement your hair nicely, too. You make for a fantastic model."

Link's head moved slowly from left to right. He looked back at the painting, at Ghirahim's work, in stunned silence. The painting was so accurate, from the shape of his nose to his high cheekbones. The folds of his green shirt, the curve of his eyebrows, everything was so _exact_.

"Do you like it?" asked Ghirahim, honestly looking expectant as he waited for Link's response.

"It's…" Link fumbled for the right words. "Well, it's incredible. But, did you have to paint me?"

Ghirahim shrugged, the motion smooth and graceful. "Like I said, you're a great model. You don't blink a lot, did you know that?"

"I don't care!" Link snapped, before regaining his composure. "Just… It's really good. You certainly have a talent. But from now on, don't draw _me_."

Ghirahim's mischievous grin was anything but sincere. "Of _course_ I won't. This was just a once-off."

Link nodded curtly, returning to Pipit's side.

"Who painted you, Link?" he asked, looking up at the portrait in awe. "It's brilliant."

"Don't know," Link muttered, and sighed in relief when the 'beep' signalling the end of class played out. He made his way back to his desk, scooped up his things, and was out the door before anyone else. Pipit caught up to him on the way to History.

"I'm going to ask around and find out," he decided. "How someone ever made that, I'll never know."

Link grunted an affirmative, pulling open the door to the History classroom. He waved to Pipit and sat down where he had yesterday with Zelda. She arrived with her friends not a minute later, and was already talking excitedly to Link before she'd even seated herself properly.

"Karane and Orielle are already thinking about having a back-to-school party," she announced, and Link raised his eyebrows in surprise, at the same time trying to fend off a yawn. He really was tired.

"It'll be a house party, they said," Zelda continued. "Nothing too big, but it'll be really grear. You're welcome to come, Link, if you want to, of course."

"It sounds like a lot of fun," he said. He glanced at her sideways and noticed the way her blonde hair was pulled into a thick braid. Feeling the need to compliment her, he added, "Your hair looks real nice today."

Zelda beamed at him, her cheeks turning the faintest of reds. "Thanks, Link! I like it this way too."

He couldn't help but smile back. Zelda had that effect, it seemed. Everyone around her always seemed to smile.

Gaepora swung the doors open at that moment, and a hush fell over the classroom.

"Today," he said, "we will be talking about the very dawn of time, before humans roamed this planet, before the Ice Age. We're going right back to the beginning."

The students drank in every word of what Gaepora told them, even Link. He'd never liked History much, but Gaepora managed to make it exciting and more interesting than it had ever appeared to be. Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as he'd anticipated. Even Groose and his pals were listening. Link had a feeling he would come to really enjoy this class.

When it was time for lunch, Gaepora bid them goodbye and the students filtered out in pairs of two or three, all on their way to the cafeteria. Link walked with Pipit and Fledge and they queued up for their pasta, sitting down at the same table they had the day before.

"Homework," Pipit began, "is the most ridiculous thing imaginable."

Fledge gave him a sympathetic smile. "Having Fi for Maths is going to be tough."

Link nodded in agreement, his eyes flickering to the clock. Ten minutes. Shaking himself, he shovelled down more pasta and listened to what Fledge had to say about other classes.

"You guys will enjoy gym class, I think," he said. "Parrow pushes people, but it's always good fun."

"What kind of sports are there?" Pipit asked. The brunet was an avid sportsman, whether it was basketball or baseball, tennis or football.

"Pretty much everything," Fledge replied, and Pipit shared a grin with Link. Gym class would be a favourite, it seemed.

They chatted on about how timid Jakamar had been yesterday. Neither Pipit nor Fledge made any mention of Link's behaviour, though, which was strongly appreciated. It was decided that Jakamar was a nice guy, but a bad teacher. And Link couldn't agree more. Any teacher who was that scared of a student was a bad one, in Link's eyes.

"I've... got to go to the bathroom," he spoke up, eyes darting to the clock yet again. Pipit waved a hand in dismissal and he and Fledge carried on their conversation. Link pushed himself up and picked up his bag quietly. Luckily, neither of the other two noticed.

He stepped outside and had to suppress a startled yell when he found Ghirahim waiting for him, his ever-present smile especially amused upon seeing Link's reaction.

"What are you doing here?" Link asked, clearing his throat and folding his arms in as stern a manner as he could manage, which just earned a smirk.

"I'm here to escort you," he replied, his pale face smug. "Come along, then."

Link glared daggers at Ghirahim's back the whole way to the dumpsters, and his arms were still crossed. He knew Ghirahim couldn't see it, but he did it to remind himself that he still had enough sense to dislike the taller teen.

Rynae and Ardaia were there already, each balanced on the lid of a dumpster. Rynae wore a black hoodie over his red shirt, his short hair ruffled by a passing breeze.

Link frowned when he saw Ardaia's long hair was braided. Exactly the way Zelda had worn her hair. The redhead noticed the way Link stared and grinned, his bright eyes cheerful.

"Looks good, right?" he asked. "There was a few little girls with her hair done up neat. I think most of them are in your grade, Link."

Rynae shook his head at Ardaia, a bemused expression on his face. "It's absolutely ridiculous."

Ardaia just winked at Link. "Well, Link thinks it looks awesome. Right?"

Link couldn't stop himself from smiling. "Sure."

Ardaia cheered, and Ghirahim tapped his foot against the ground loudly, pointedly fixing Ardaia with a look of mock severity.

"It occurred to me that I never answered your question from yesterday, Link," Ghirahim began, turning to address Link.

"What question?"

"You asked me how I got so strong," said Ghirahim. "And here's the answer: we fight! Ardaia, Rynae and I fight each other. And now you have the opportunity to join in the fun!"

"What?" Link spluttered. "I'm not fighting anyone!"

"Oh, honestly, Link," Ghirahim laughed, shaking his head and allowing his hair to sway from side to side. "It's all very friendly. No one holds any grudges or anything."

At that remark, Rynae gave Link an assuring smile and Ardaia stuck a thumb up with a wide grin.

"Give it a go, Link," Ardaia pleaded. "It'll be worth it in the long run, we promise. Don't you want to buff up and attract the eyes of countless women?"

"You guys would just beat me up," Link protested, trying to ignore how warm his cheeks felt.

"No way," Rynae shook his head. "We'd go easy on you, no worries."

"For now," said Ghirahim slyly. "Besides, Link's eyes are set on the lovely Zelda: One of the girls with that dreadful hairstyle you've replicated, Ardaia."

Rynae grinned, and Ardaia raised thin red eyebrows in surprise.

"Zelda?" he asked. "Wasn't she bossing you around yesterday?"

"She _didn't_ boss me around," Ghirahim said immediately, and Link noticed the intensity behind his denial, pride. He cleared his throat before he continued. "Anyway, you can be sure that's who Link's trying to attract the attention of."

"Well, why don't you get fighting?" asked Rynae.

"Not happening," said Link. He was tempted to walk back to the school, but thought better of it after remembering what had happened yesterday. Instead he shifted his feet awkwardly while Ghirahim stood watching with a hand on his hip, looking at Link like he was a meal.

"Hey," Ardaia spoke up. "It's not like he's got to fight today. What if we just give him a demonstration?"

Rynae grinned, and Ghirahim clapped his hands together loudly, making Link jump.

"An excellent idea," he agreed, turning to look at Link with anticipation. "Rynae and Ardaia can show you what they've got. They're both good fighters in their own rights."

Rynae cleared his throat pointedly, and Ardaia scoffed loudly.

"Good?" he echoed. "Oh, all right. Why don't we show Link what a 'good' fight looks like, Rynae?"

Rynae shrugged off his jumper in one smooth movement and tossed it aside. "I suppose we could. Why don't you hop up on that dumpster with Ghirahim, Link, and enjoy this?"

Before he could even open his mouth, Ghirahim was already directing him toward the dumpster. He jumped up and landed neatly, his shoes never making a sound. He examined the back of his hand intently before he bothered to offer a hand to Link. He was pulled up swiftly while Ardaia and Rynae made a point of flexing their muscles, though Rynae didn't have a lot to show off.

"This will be quite fun to watch," Ghirahim mused. "Ardaia and Rynae are polar opposites."

"Wait!" Ardaia said, excited. "I say we each take a drink first."

"Interesting," said Rynae, his eyes flashing in amamusement. "You planning on sneaking me extra so you can win?"

"As if," Ardaia retorted. "Ghirahim! Some wine!"

Link held the glasses for Ghirahim as he poured out the rosé. The pale teen's eyes were eager. He took them from Link and passed them down to Ardaia, who gave him a wink as thanks.

They each downed the wine in one gulp, and Rynae set down the glasses on the lid of the dumpster. Not really giving it much thought, Link reached over and picked them up, passing them to Ghirahim. Having spent most of his life helping Mallara with the dishes, it was second nature for him to clean away anything that wasn't where it was supposed to be. In response, he was given a surprised but amused smile from Ghirahim.

"Here, take one," said Ghirahim, handing back one of the glasses to Link. He reopened the rosé and filled Link's glass before he poured some for himself. Link stared in dismay at the amber liquid, reflecting on how horrible it had tasted to him before.

"I don't like this stuff," Link told him. Ghirahim just lifted his glass and touched it against Link's, never breaking eye contact.

"_Adjust_," was all he said, before swivelling to watch Ardaia and Rynae. Link held his glass with both hands but didn't actually make a move to drink the wine.

"You ready, little man?" Ardaia asked, and Rynae made a noise of irritation.

"Just because you're freakishly tall doesn't mean you can tease other people about their height," Rynae said, though he was smiling.

Link realised that Rynae did have a point, though; Ardaia had to be at least six feet tall, whereas Rynae was a few inches shorter and closer to Link's height. Still, it didn't seem to mean too much to the pair.

Link watched in confusion as they circled each other. They were always wary and yet always smiling. He took a sip of his wine and made a face at the unpleasant taste. Though it didn't taste quite as bad as it had yesterday, he still wasn't very fond of it.

Ghirahim was working his way through his own drink, observing Rynae and Ardaia with a bemused expression. After another minute passed and nothing happened, he groaned and spoke up.

"When you two are _quite_ done with all the sexual tension, I'd like you to get started so Link can actually see some of the action we promised him."

If looks really could kill, then the glare Rynae shot Ghirahim should have had the teen dead and buried. Link gave Ghirahim a disapproving look, shocked that he would think to say such a thing. Ardaia just laughed loudly.

"If you insist," he shrugged. Without letting anyone get in a word, he launched forward with his arms braced. His feet pounded against the dirt as he rushed Rynae.

Link watched with growing worry as Ardaia approached and Rynae just stood there. Four metres, three, two...

"Move, Rynae!" he shouted, unable to stop himself. Ghirahim cackled, his whole body shaking as he did so.

Rynae waited until there was half a metre between himself and Ardaia and then jumped.

Link blinked in astonishment. Rynae vaulted right over Ardaia and landed behind him while the redhead skidded to a stop and whirled around.

"No point telling Rynae to move," Ghirahim said as the two circled each other again. "He can get around pretty quickly. Ardaia's strong, but he lacks that speed. However if he lands a hit, it's going to be pretty bad for Rynae."

"Not that he's going to land one," Rynae called, and grinned when Ardaia poked his tongue out in retort.

"We'll see about that."

Ardaia started to charge Rynae again, and the wiry male shot up into the air again, but as he leaped, Ardaia stopped and grabbed him by the waist.

"Here's where things will get interesting," Ghirahim remarked. Link involuntarily took an anxious gulp of wine and nearly gagged.

Rynae struggled as Ardaia spun him around like a ragdoll. He was sent flying through the air and landed with a thud. Link gasped in surprise, and moved to help him, but he was restrained by Ghirahim's forearm shooting out to stop him in his tracks.

"Don't," he said softly. "If Rynae can't get up that's his problem."

Ardaia was running swiftly toward Rynae again, who didn't appear to be moving. Just as he neared, however, ready to strike with a kick, Rynae caught his ankle and pulled Ardaia to the ground next to him. The taller male landed with an 'oomph' on his back before he began laughing hysterically, and Rynae joined him. Link watched in puzzlement and Ghirahim just shook his head, exasperated.

"Honestly, if that's all you two fools can do to impress our guest, then I may begin to think you useless," he said, as Ardaia pulled Rynae to his feet with a grin for Ghirahim.

"Whatever," he called. "As if you could do much better."

Ghirahim just smiled. "Tomorrow, I'll fight Link."

Link dropped his glass, and it rolled on the ground, the rosé spilling all over the place. Rynae laughed and Ardaia put his hands on his hips, shaking his head in imitation of Ghirahim.

"I'm not fighting _you_!" Link stated, eyes wide and panicked. "You'd destroy me!"

"Why, thank you for the compliment," said Ghirahim. "But it's been settled. Ardaia, please bring little Link back to the school." He flashed a smile at Link. "I don't think you'll be sick after half a glass. At least, I hope not."

He suffered through the same process of being kissed by Rynae, then Ardaia, and Ghirahim, before he was guided by Ardaia to the front doors.

Link glowered all the way back to the school. Ardaia tried to make conversation, chattering about teachers and different subjects and school holidays. And though Link didn't mind him as much as he did Ghirahim, he didn't respond to anything that was said. Eventually, Ardaia just gave up, and he departed quickly, though not without a last smile and a wave for Link.

"I'm doomed," he whispered to himself as he pushed the doors open.

**A/N: Endings, I just can't write them. Hope you all enjoyed this chapter!**


	5. Injury

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Hello all, and here is chapter five! Thank you for reviews, follows and favourites! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!**

**And thank you to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading!**

Gym class, for Link, wasn't as fun as he'd thought it would have been. Maybe it was the butterflies in his stomach, but he just couldn't find it in himself to enjoy the class.

Their class was playing dodge ball, the students divided into two teams of about fifteen. Link and Pipit were with Fledge, Karane and the rest of their team on the bottom half of the court, while Keet, Kina and Zelda were on the other side. Ghirahim was on their side, too, keeping toward the back of his team. His hood was up, surprisingly, and his ever-present smile was strangely smug.

The gym was massive and extraordinarily wide, so the students had space to move about freely and easily. The huge building had grey-bricked walls, and the floor was painted in a pale green colour, with markings all over it for different sports. Parrow, their teacher, stood watching from the sides as they ran about dodging the rubbery balls hurtling all over the place.

Link sidestepped to avoid a ball flying toward his shins, and Pipit scooped it up before throwing it in a curve towards an unassuming Orielle. She was chatting to another girl and let out a startled shout when she was hit square in the back.

"Orielle!" Parrow yelled. "You're letting me down, sis! You're out!"

Pipit laughed loudly, but he was next to go out, smacked right in the face. He blinked, astonished, and strode away, cursing under his breath. Karane joined Link in his place, catching a ball thrown by Zelda and eliminating her. Link gave her a thumbs up and hopped to the left as a ball came low, aiming for the ankles. Link glanced about to see who'd thrown it and found Ghirahim grinning at him, waving his fingers tauntingly.

Fledge tossed him a ball and Link drew his arm back, sending the ball speeding in Ghirahim's direction. He grunted in irritation when Ghirahim arched his back, allowing the ball to sail right behind him. It bounced, and Ghirahim caught it in one hand, tossing it back mockingly. Link swerved right and scrambled to pick up the ball again, intent on knocking the damn smile off of Ghirahim's stupid-

He stumbled to the right when he was hit by Keet, dropping the ball with a huff. Frustrated beyond caring, he made a point of stamping all the way to the benches, where Pipit waited with a sympathetic smile.

"You were awesome out there," he said as Link sat down beside him, still glaring at Ghirahim as he took out Fledge, then Karane, with such ease that even the members of his own team kept their distance from him.

Pipit let out his breath in a whistle. "I hate to admit it, but Ghirahim's got serious skill."

Link grimaced. "Yeah. He does."

"Would you say he's gotten into many fights?"

Link looked to his friend in surprise, trying and failing to hide his apprehension.

"Don't know," he said simply. "Probably has."

"Well, from what Fledge has told me, he sounds like he could take on anyone in the school. He certainly has the confidence."

Link nodded his agreement. "Overconfident. Since when are you so interested in him, anyway?"

Pipit shrugged. "He's just interesting, you know?"

It was Link's turn to shrug. They looked up at a victory cheer from the other team, announcing their win with exaggerated shouts and taunts for the losers. Ghirahim rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in the air before moving to leave the gym.

"Yes, we won," he called out. "But it's not like any of you did anything worthwhile."

His comment was met with a moment of brief silence, before the students just drifted towards the doors, chatting and laughing as they made their way to the next class.

* * *

Jakamar was in a better mood than yesterday, it seemed. Ghirahim remained quiet, seated –and looking quite satisfied about it- in his position at the back of the class. Groose sat grumbling with his friends –Cawlin, the short one, and Stritch, the tallest- at the front of the class. Link sat with Pipit and listened to what Jakamar was planning on having them study during the year: Les Miserables. From what Link could gather, it was a very sad book about a revolution in France. He couldn't tell if it looked good or not, though Pipit didn't think too highly of it.

The day ended after Horwell came to their base classroom to give them information about different groups in the school. Fledge decided to join the chess club, while Pipit opted for basketball. Zelda was going to take art classes after school, and Karane was planning on trying out for basketball. When he was asked for his preference, Link just told Horwell he would need some time to think about it.

After finishing the homework Fi had given them to do, Pipit and Link spent the rest of the day watching re-runs of Friends with Mallara, until she shooed them away to get some sleep.

Link dreamt that he followed Ghirahim to where he drank his wine and smoked his cigarettes, that he sat and drank with him. They talked and talked, but Link couldn't make out a word of their conversation. He watched Ghirahim's facial expressions shift over and over, until his features were set firmly in anger.

Link woke dreaming that Ghirahim's hands were around his throat.

* * *

"Link," Pipit gave his friend's shoulder a light push, watching Link blink himself awake again as the bus trundled toward the school.

"Are you okay?" Pipit asked. Link waved a hand breezily, smiling at Pipit with vacant eyes.

"You know me, Pipit," he said. "Always have my head in the clouds."

Pipit just laughed, and they headed into the school, Pipit talking about a new video game release while Link tried his best to listen, his nerves frayed. All through the morning, Link brushed off what Pipit and Fledge said about him looking exhausted, or worn out, insisting that he was fine.

By the time he reached the science laboratory, Link's insides felt hollow. He dropped into his seat with a regretful sigh, waiting for Ghirahim to saunter in. And not a moment later, he did, gliding over to Link with a smile as he seated himself, taking out his things and laying them out neatly. He whipped out his phone, frowned, and sent a text. When he was done, he eyed Link up and down, taking in the wide eyes and anxious drumming of fingers on the desk.

"Something wrong?" he asked, and Link managed to shoot him a half-hearted glare. When he didn't give him a reply, Ghirahim just kept on talking.

"Oh, that's right! I almost forgot about our fight today. Are you looking forward to it? Because I know I certainly am."

"I could think of a hundred other things I'd rather be doing," Link said.

Ghirahim gave him a hurt look, placing a hand over his chest and widening his eyes.

"Well, that stung," he said. "No matter. I imagine it will be a lot of fun; don't you think so?"

"It'll be fabulous," Link muttered. Ghirahim laughed at that, either not picking up on the sarcasm or just ignoring it.

"Indeed it will be. Ah, here comes Owlan, ready to teach us absolutely nothing of worth."

"Are you really that _arrogant_?" Link asked, as Owlan gave the class a small smile and began organizing some sheets at his desk. "What do you know that he doesn't?"

"Didn't you listen to me during our first lesson?" Ghirahim demanded. "I did say that they teach us nothing at all, and I was being entirely honest with you. Owlan tries, but he's old. The 'science' we learn in here is nothing compared to what I've studied."

Link gave him a sceptical look. "And what is it that you've studied that's so wonderful?"

Link had to smile at the way Ghirahim immediately brightened. In reality, he was the fickle one, though Link didn't point that out. He let Ghirahim ramble on delightedly.

"Oh, particle physics, it's simply fantastic. And psychology is easily one of the most fascinating things I've come across in a long time. Science is everywhere, but no one takes the time to notice it, or appreciate it."

Ghirahim stared at Link, waiting for some sort of reply. Link just stared back, eyebrows raised slightly and his expression curious. Ghirahim constantly surprised him with his intense emotions and passion regarding nearly everything.

"That's a nice look on you," Ghirahim said dryly, smirking again. Link blinked, glared at him, and then turned to listen to Owlan instead.

"Today, I'm going to test your basic knowledge of science," he said happily. "Just to see what you can remember of last year's lessons. There are three sections, divided among Biology, Chemistry and Physics, of course. I want you to try and answer everything. If you can't remember an answer, just take an educated guess."

He gave out the sheets and returned to his desk, flipping open a silver laptop and typing quickly.

Link looked down at his sheet worriedly. He didn't know a single bit of any of this! He risked a glance at Ghirahim, who had already worked his way through half of the sheet. He seemed to have no trouble at all, never pausing. Link had to wonder if he was even reading the questions, he wrote so quickly.

Link flipped his sheet over to see if there were any other questions he could answer. The formula for density; Mass over volume, wasn't it? He scribbled it down and scanned the page for more. To his dismay, there were about three questions out of thirty that he could even hope to answer.

Ghirahim cleared his throat pointedly after a few minutes, and Link glanced up at him wearily.

"What is it?" he asked, propping his head on one fist. Ghirahim dragged Link's sheet closer to him and pointed a long finger to the first question.

"A tropism," he said, "is the growth of a plant in response to a stimulant."

Link wrote it down, making sure not to look Ghirahim in the eye.

"Thanks," he said. "So I'm guessing phototropism has something to do with a plant needing light to grow."

"The plant grows in the direction of the nearest light source. Geotropism is the term for a plant's roots growing downward to absorb nutrients."

Link noted it down, ignoring Ghirahim's self-satisfied smile. His hands shook slightly as he wrote, his eyes occasionally darting to the clock, willing for lunchtime to never arrive. Not that he was particularly enjoying himself right now, but sitting in a classroom with Ghirahim was better than fighting him.

"Please tell me you know at least a little about how gas exchange," Ghirahim interrupted his thoughts, resting his chin on a gloved fist.

Link looked down at the question and bit his lip. Ghirahim tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the desk, his expression bored.

"Err, gas exchange… Oh! That's in the lungs, right?" Link asked hopefully.

"Where exactly?" Ghirahim prompted.

"Ah… The inside?"

"Oh, heaven above," Ghirahim groaned. "In the alveoli! Weren't you ever taught anything?"

"Hey!" Link snapped. "The school I went to before was awful; you can't really blame me for not knowing all of this."

Ghirahim shrugged. "I suppose. But really, anyone with even a scrap of sense should know that leaves are designed for photosynthesis. Not petals."

Link glowered, striking out his answer and replacing it with Ghirahim's. "Whatever…"

For the next ten minutes, Ghirahim explained about atomic bonding and recited the definitions of force, work and power. And Link took note of them all, finishing the sheet and feeling more foolish than he'd ever felt before.

When they handed up the sheets, Ghirahim stretched his hands up over his head and yawned loudly. Link paid no mind to him, fiddling with his pen and trying not to think about how close it was getting to lunchtime.

"Tell me," said Ghirahim, "what other subjects do you find difficult?"

Link looked at him from the corner of his eye, crossing his arms. "Why do you want to know?"

"Just curious."

"Hm. I don't know… Maths?"

Ghirahim raised his eyebrows. "I expected as much from you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Do you always scrunch your nose up like that when you try to concentrate?"

Link gave him a perplexed look, one eyebrow raised. "What? Where did that come from?"

"I was watching you write and I just happened to notice it. Honestly, you get so touchy over small things."

Link just blinked a couple of times before he responded. "That's… really weird."

"Observing? I hardly think so."

Link opened his mouth to argue, but the beeping –Fledge told them it was a bell, but it didn't exactly sound like a bell- played out and Owlan was already waving the students goodbye as they rushed for the cafeteria. Link stuck his pen in his pocket and picked up his bag, glancing once more at the clock.

"Well, I'll be seeing you soon," Ghirahim called as he walked away, laughing softly. Link joined Pipit in silence, and let him talk about their plans of going downtown on Saturday, adding an 'oh' or 'great' where he felt it was appropriate. Fledge met them in the cafeteria and they got their pasta –which Link was already getting sick of- before sitting in their usual spot.

"You're welcome to come with us on Saturday, Fledge," said Pipit.

Fledge gave him a grateful smile. "Really? Thanks!"

"Wouldn't be the same without you," said Link, giving Fledge a smile. The other teen looked so overjoyed, Link thought he might cry.

"You guys are the best," said Fledge happily, and Pipit grinned at him.

"No problem."

Link finished his pasta and tossed the tin packaging into a nearby bin, and Pipit did the same.

"Maybe you should try out for basketball too," he said with a grin. "By the way, Link, did you decide on any clubs?"

Link spotted the clock across from him and winced. It was time to go. He glanced back at Pipit with a false smile.

"I was actually just going to go and talk to Horwell now," he said quickly, picking up his bag and readying himself. Taking a deep breath and willing for his hands to stop shaking, he stood up and gave his friends a wave. Pipit caught his arm on the way past, and Link looked down at him in surprise.

"What?" he asked.

Pipit narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "You always leave at the same time. The past three days, you've spent exactly fifteen minutes with us before leaving."

Link's stomach twisted as he remembered what Ghirahim had said about people finding out about their 'pastimes'. He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could.

"Happy accident," was all he said, before freeing himself from Pipit's grasp and taking off. He hated lying to his friends like that, but at the same time, he didn't want Ghirahim to go after them.

He was walking, head down, when he bumped into Ardaia, whose hair was back in its usual low ponytail. He turned, a blue mobile phone in hand.

"Oh!" Link said, startled. "Sorry."

"No worries," Ardaia brushed it off. "You coming?"

With a resigned sigh, Link nodded and followed Ardaia with his hands in his pockets. They took each turn, and Link surprised himself by having a surprisingly normal conversation with Ardaia.

"I hear you guys are studying Les Miserables," the redhead said, his hair billowing in the breeze.

"Yeah," Link replied. "Do you know if it's good or not? My friend Pipit isn't too eager to read it."

"Pipit's the one with the awesome hair, right?" Ardaia grinned. "All spiked up at the front?"

Link nodded, smiling. "Yeah. He's not much of a reader."

"Ah, well, Les Miserables might prove to be difficult for him. You wanted to know it if was good? I personally think that it's kind of a waste of time. I mean, I feel sorry for them all, and the revolution was pretty cool, but I just don't have the heart to say I love it. Rynae likes it a lot, though. He could give you a better insight than me."

"What's the story, anyway?" Link asked.

"Um, I remember it vaguely. Oh, yeah. This revolutionary, Marius, falls in love with a pretty girl called Cosette. Her mother's dead, her father left them, Marius abandons his family… Eh, Cosette's adopted father –who is _pretty_ awesome- dies; the police officer who hates his guts commits suicide. I'm not sure if it all happens in that order, though…. Basically, Marius and Cosette live happily ever after while everyone else has a rough time."

"Wow," said Link. "Spoilers, much?"

Ardaia just grinned. "If you ask me, the very title is a spoiler. It literally translates into 'The Victims.'"

Link couldn't help laughing, but it died when they rounded the last corner and found Ghirahim and Rynae waiting, each lying on top of a dumpster, smoking cigarettes. Ardaia shook his head at them.

"Our contender is here!" he shouted, and Ghirahim jumped, pushing himself up with a scowl. Rynae propped himself up on one elbow and smiled.

"You and your constant need to yell," Ghirahim muttered. Ardaia gave him the finger in mock salute.

"You ready for this, Link?" Rynae asked.

Link nearly smacked himself. He'd gotten so caught up in his chat with Ardaia that he'd almost completely forgotten the reason he was here. He looked to Ghirahim, whose eyes looked excited, the dark irises shining. He jumped down and landed nimbly, his feet barely making a sound as he walked toward Link.

Ardaia was already seating himself on the dumpster next to Rynae, who passed him the bottle of rosé and held out a glass.

Ghirahim placed a hand on Link's shoulder and locked eyes with him, his smile eerily wide.

"Relax," he said, as Link flinched away from his touch. "I promise up front not to murder you."

When he saw the panic flash across Link's face, he just laughed again, removing his hand and taking a few steps backwards.

"I don't want to fight you," Link protested, as Ghirahim feigned brushing dust from his gloves.

"Too late to turn back now," he said with a malicious grin. "I do hope you're ready for this."

"We'll be cheering for you, Link," Ardaia called, waving a long arm as he smiled at Link.

Rynae blew out a plume of smoke into the air, poising his cigarette between two fingers. "You'll be fine."

Link shivered as he met Ghirahim's excited gaze, balling his hands into fists that trembled despite Link's efforts to remain calm. The truth was, he was terrified of what was about to happen. Ghirahim was balanced on the balls of his feet, looking like a cat ready to attack its prey: Which, in this case, was Link.

"This… This is unfair," he tried, keeping his voice as steady as he could. "You're taller, and a lot stronger."

"I'm not that much taller than you," Ghirahim retorted. "A few inches at most."

"Ghirahim stands at exactly five feet, eleven inches and a half," said Ardaia. "I'm the tallest at six feet three. Rynae here is about five feet nine, give or take a half-inch. By the looks of you Link, I'd estimate that you're about five feet six, seven at most."

Link scowled. "Thanks for clarifying that."

Ghirahim just shrugged. He threw off his red hoodie and Link grimaced. The shirt Ghirahim wore was pristine white, like his jeans and shoes, and certainly didn't leave a lot to the imagination. It clung to Ghirahim's body and accentuated the tough muscle underneath the fabric. The low-cut V-neck showed defined collarbones and more pale skin, impossibly clean and clear.

His observations were interrupted by Ghirahim's sly remark.

"Enjoying the view?"

Ardaia laughed loudly as Link fumed, cheeks turning scarlet. Ghirahim was grinning from ear to ear, still balanced on the balls of his feet. Link frowned, irritated and in no mood to fuel Ghirahim's delight. With a small noise of frustration, he put up his fists and tried to imitate Ghirahim's posture, though he had a feeling he didn't seem nearly as graceful as Ghirahim appeared.

"… Okay," he said, feeling a knot form in his stomach. The feeling was becoming unnervingly familiar. "I'm ready."

Before he could blink twice, Ghirahim had crossed the five metres between them, a white blur in the midst of greys and greens. Link raised his hands to ward him off but was forced back by a solid punch to his stomach, stumbling none too gracefully in an effort to regain his footing. He skidded to a stop and watched Ghirahim warily, trying to ignore how hollow the punch had made him feel.

"Come on, Link!" Ardaia called. "Get him back!"

"Not likely," said Ghirahim with a mischievous grin. He moved in a circle around Link, his legs crossing over each other as he stared at Link with something akin to bloodlust. It did nothing at all for Link's already shattered nerves. He followed the other's movements, turning slowly as he tried to track the pale teen.

Ghirahim shot forward again, his right fist pulled back and ready to make contact with Link. Link's mind was working furiously, he thought about gym class yesterday. It was all about timing, timing...

He twisted just as Ghirahim came within half a metre of him, and he whizzed past, his fist still outstretched. Link grinned when he heard Ghirahim curse.

"Get him!" Rynae shouted, and Ardaia was pounding his fists against the dumpster lid furiously in anticipation.

"_Grab_ him!" he practically screeched, and Link found himself leaping to tackle Ghirahim. He grunted when they hit the ground hard and rolled, trying to gain the upper hand. He ended up on top, but before he could punch, Ghirahim caught his fist and pushed him back so that within three seconds he was leering down at Link.

"Close," he said with a grin. "But not close enough."

He had one knee positioned on either side of Link, keeping him pinned in place from the waist down. Link squirmed and tried to wriggle out of the grip, however when nothing worked, he ended up resorting to punching Ghirahim in the stomach. For his efforts, he was rewarded with a choked gasp as Ghirahim was forced away. Link scrambled to his feet and raised his fists again.

"Good going, Link!" Ardaia cheered, and Rynae gave him a thumbs-up in approval.

Link barely had time to acknowledge their praise before Ghirahim was charging at him again. Before he could even think about how to defend himself, an arm was wrapped around his waist and he was scooped up by Ghirahim before being thrown to the ground. Wrapping his arms around his head, Link managed to avoid serious damage, but the wind had been successfully knocked out of him. He gasped for breath, blinking furiously to try and make out where Ghirahim was.

After a moment, he felt warm breath on his face. Ghirahim was looking down at Link in a mixture of rage and anticipation. He drew back a fist, and before Link could lift an arm to stop him, searing pain exploded at the side of his head, filling his eyes with stars and his ears with a loud ringing sound.

He could just make out Ghirahim's blank expression, staring down at Link with something close to hesitation. He was still leaning over Link, keeping him trapped. Not that Link planned on getting up any time soon.

"Holy shit," Rynae said softly, breaking the silence.

Link felt Ghirahim withdraw slowly, his lean body straightening like a spring in slow motion. His normally immaculate hair was tousled and dirty, his eyes looked wild and his muscles were tensed. He never took his gaze from Link, even as Ardaia picked him up and seated him on the lid of the dumpster.

"It's going to bruise," said Ardaia, as solemn as Link had ever seen him before. He listened in despair as Rynae was sent to get some tissues, and Ardaia rounded on Ghirahim.

"What the hell was that?" he demanded furiously. "His first time, and you nearly knocked him out! You could have killed him, for pity's sake!"

"I _wouldn't_ have!" Ghirahim snapped. "I promised not to, didn't I?"

"You came close!"

"Just fix him up, Ardaia!"

Link allowed Ardaia to inspect the rest of his body without delay. To his dismay, he felt tears rolling down his cheeks. Ardaia wiped them away gently, pushing Link's hair back from his forehead. Ghirahim stood below them, leaning against the dumpster with his arms folded around his waist, and a sour expression on his face.

Rynae got back and began wiping away dirt and dabbing at smaller cuts as Ardaia dusted off his clothes. When they were finished, they took a step back to observe their work. Rynae gave a curt nod, and Ardaia ran a hand over his scalp anxiously.

Ghirahim climbed up next to Link, and Link gave him a withering look. About to put a hand on his forearm, Ghirahim thought better of it and retreated ever so slightly. He breathed out through his nose, his gaze cast downward.

"Look, I'm sorry I hurt you like that," he muttered. Link's eyes widened at hearing that, and Ardaia and Rynae looked at each other in shock. Ghirahim growled at them, and they looked away immediately, scuffing their feet on the ground as they glanced up at Link. Ghirahim was watching him expectantly, fidgeting a little.

Link straightened himself, focused on the ground below him and hopped off of the dumpster without a word.

"Link," Ghirahim started, ready to jump down. "I got carried away, I-"

"Don't talk to me!" Link cut him off. He pushed past a stunned Rynae and ran around the corner. He was headed toward the school as quickly as he could, ignoring the sound of Ardaia and Rynae calling his name. He saw the world through clouded eyes, blinking away tears and the hazy shapes of stars that threatened to leave him blind.

"Ghirahim," he whispered, leaning against the front doors to push them open. "That demon..."


	6. Ignorance

**Threads Of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! Here is chapter six! There were some problems with uploading this so I'm sorry if it's reaching some of you a little late, or if you got multiple alerts for the same chapter. Thank you all for the reviews, favourites and follows! They mean the world to me.**

**Thanks to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading!**

"What the _hell_ happened to you?!"

Link jumped when he heard Pipit's demand, shutting the door of his locker and turning to fully face his friend. He grimaced as Pipit's expression shifted from one of shock, to disbelief, to rage.

"Oh, man," he said. "It didn't look so bad from the side, but… Who was it? I swear I'll-!"

"Would you relax?" Link asked, though he knew there was no chance of it happening. The purple-blue bruise on the side of his head looked –and felt- awful and his eyes were red-rimmed.

"What happened?"

"It was just a stupid accident," Link tried. Pipit shook his head, lips set into a thin line. Link pressed on persistently, not caring if Pipit believed him or not.

"There was just a bunch of guys," he muttered. "Practising for baseball or hockey, I don't know. I turned the corner and got whacked."

"You'd be knocked out clean by a bat," said Pipit, frowning.

"It's not like he was putting any effort into it. Just messing about, and I got hit. Look, could you just get me some ice or something cold?"

Pipit, hands planted on his hips, breathed out loudly through his nose before giving up.

"Alright. Don't move. I mean it."

"Thanks."

Link scrubbed a hand through his hair, wishing for a hat so he could at least try to hide the bruise. Luckily, most of the students were drifting toward their next class and didn't pay him much mind. Keet gave him a questioning look as he passed by, but Link just stuck a thumb up in a reassuring gesture and the teen forgot all about it.

Pipit arrived back in good time, handing Link the ice pack with an almost resentful sigh.

"You haven't even been in the school a week," he said, "and already you're beaten up, by 'accident', of course."

Link ignored that last remark and pressed the ice to his forehead, feeling a wave of relief wash over him as the pain was lessened immediately, the ice numbing the area. He sagged against the lockers, whispering a 'thanks' to Pipit, who just nodded.

"That feels good," said Link, taking a deep breath. "Where are we headed to next?"

"Maths," Pipit replied. "I hope Fi doesn't mind us being late."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Link said, as they picked up their bags. He froze momentarily when he spotted Ghirahim at the end of the corridor, leaning against a doorframe and smiling lazily at Link and Pipit.

"Link," he called, waving a gloved hand.

Link turned away from him and began walking the other way, staring right ahead even as Pipit shot worried glances from his friend, to Ghirahim and back again. When he realized Link hadn't responded, Ghirahim tried again, pushing away from the wall with a small frown.

"Link!"

"Don't look back at him," Link ordered as Pipit made to turn around.

"I know Fledge said to keep away from him, Link," Pipit said warily, "but he could get pretty mad. You might-"

"Zelda was right," Link said, still striding briskly onward. "Someone should put Ghirahim in his place."

Ghirahim's persistent voice rang out again. "Link! I'm waiting!"

"Keep waiting!" Link shouted back at him, turning a corner and not waiting to see if Pipit followed him. In a moment, though, Pipit was at his side.

"I guess I was right," said Pipit. "This school isn't anything like Howard's."

"No kidding," Link muttered, pushing open the door of their Maths classroom. "I'm already exhausted."

* * *

Link glanced up from his cup of coffee when he heard Pipit swing open the kitchen door, blinking rapidly in an effort to hide the fact that he'd almost fallen asleep at the table. His friend looked at him as if he had two heads, and Link purposefully avoided eye contact.

"What's with you being up so early these days?" Pipit asked, grabbing the box of cornflakes and pouring a bowl for himself. "You sleep like a log, most of the time."

"Who knows?" Link replied, finishing the coffee and pushing himself up from the table. Pipit frowned at him.

"You realize you've been wearing the same clothes all week?"

Link looked down at himself and raised his eyebrows. Pipit was right; his green shirt was still stained with wine and smelled faintly of smoke.

"Oh," he said dully. "I'll go get changed."

"I appreciate it," Pipit said dryly, before shoving a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. Link rolled his eyes, returning to his bedroom to find clothes that weren't rumpled, or looked like they'd been dragged through a rainforest.

He'd been so tired over the past few days that it hadn't occurred to him to change his clothes. Link pulled his shirt over his head and grimaced at the smell, throwing it into the laundry basket in the corner of his room.

He found a faded pair of jeans and a white shirt, throwing on a green hoodie to keep himself warm. He got back to the kitchen and exaggeratedly spun around on one foot, poking his tongue out at Pipit. His friend simply returned the gesture before picking up his bag.

"Thursday," he said. "We're nearly through the first week, then. Though I think you made it this far out of sheer luck. You look like a mess."

"Why, thank you," Link said, grabbing his own bag.

They arrived at the bus stop long before it arrived. In an effort to fend off boredom, they ended up rolling strips of newspaper into balls and tossing them into a nearby bin. Unable to concentrate, Link ended up losing to Pipit by at least fifteen throws. He sighed in relief when the bus rounded the corner, climbing on and falling into a seat.

Zelda gave him a wave as they entered the school, and Link smiled back at her, ignoring Pipit's teasing. They got their books for the first classes and spent a while talking to Fledge before heading for Jakamar's classroom. It turned out that Les Miserables was about an ex-convict who was trying to redeem himself, only to be stopped at every turn by a police officer dead-set on arresting him. Not exactly the way Ardaia had described it, but interesting enough. As Link had expected, Pipit wasn't much of a fan.

In art class, Horwell surprised them with a strange cat belonging to Gaepora. Its huge ears twitched occasionally, and it tilted its round head in order to look up at Horwell with curious brown eyes. Its white fur was smudged with brown, and its tail was a slightly darker shade, twisting and flicking.

"This is Mia," Horwell told them happily. "I found her earlier today. She seems to like me, so I thought I'd let you all draw her for this class!"

There were plenty of comments about how cute Mia was, but there was just the same amount of complaint about how difficult it would be to draw her. Horwell waved his arms in an attempt at calming the students down, but to no avail.

"Oh, _do_ shut up," Ghirahim snapped, much to everyone's surprise. The effect was immediate, all traces of conversation vanishing as suddenly as they had started. Link stopped himself from turning around, choosing to stare at Mia instead. She was curling herself up into a ball, eyes closing slowly as she drifted off to sleep.

"… Um, well, yes," Horwell managed. "You'll be able to draw her like this, I'm sure. Why don't you begin?"

Link took his pencil and frowned thoughtfully at Mia, watching the way she breathed steadily. He drew her outline carefully, focusing on her roundness, the way her head was at an angle. It was an awkward process, but eventually he found himself shading in the nose and moving on to try and colour her fur.

Pipit groaned loudly. "This is impossible! Who wants to draw cats anyway?"

Link shrugged, glancing at Pipit's drawing. It looked like Mia, albeit a few… alterations to her short legs and small nose.

"It's fine," he said, and Pipit rolled his eyes.

"It'll do, I suppose."

Horwell hung up all of the drawings, on the other side of the class this time. He let the students get up and look at them, sitting at his desk and rubbing Mia's fur gently.

"Man," said Pipit. "I shouldn't have let Horwell pin mine up."

"I told you," said Link. "It looks fine. There's worse up there."

Pipit gave Link a small smile, turning to talk to Kina about another depiction of Mia. Link scanned the paintings, taking time to look at each one and taking note of different elements of each picture. His eyes came to an abrupt halt when they fell on the sheet hanging to his extreme right.

Mia was lying in a tiny ball, her expression serene. Her paws rested under her head as her long tail curled around her small frame. Every strand of fur was drawn with fine lines, impossibly smooth-looking. The brown markings were there too, coloured with a darker pencil. Everything about the picture was calm, natural, and so real. And Link knew already who'd drawn it.

He heard Ghirahim before he saw him, his voice a little too close to Link's ear for comfort.

"Like it?" he asked. "That little creature _is_ rather adorable."

Link crossed his arms, pressing his lips firmly together and refusing to respond. Ghirahim grinned slyly.

"Ignoring me? How mature you must be."

Link glared at the drawings before walking swiftly away from him to the other end of the crowd of students. To his annoyance, Ghirahim followed on his heel, chattering away regardless of whether Link was listening or not.

"I must say, I look forward to seeing how long it takes for you to speak to me again," he commented, coming to a stop at Link's left. One hand resting on his hip, his eyebrows rose slightly.

"Not a lot of people can stand being mute for so long. If you can't respond to anything I say, or do, if you refuse to even _acknowledge_ me, you might find yourself becoming very agitated."

Link let his breath out in a huff and pretended to be extremely interested in the clock, watching the second hand intently. And still, Ghirahim didn't stop talking.

"I could literally do anything to you, and so long as you're still intent on ignoring me, there would be nothing you could even do about it. For example…"

Ghirahim stretched out a gloved finger and poked Link in the ribs, grinning when Link stubbornly turned his head to the side. Thoroughly amused, he did it again, and again. Each time, Link resisted the urge to punch him, drumming his fingers against his thigh with increasing speed.

"Or I could do _this_," said Ghirahim, flicking the side of Link's head. It wasn't the side with the bruise; however he still earned an irritated noise from Link, which only fuelled him on. Over and over he flicked Link, on his head, on his shoulder, on his side.

Link started to say something, but bit down on his tongue before he could. Ghirahim stopped his pestering, looking at Link expectantly. Link gritted his teeth, blowing his bangs out of his eyes, immensely frustrated.

"How about I take a look at the damage done from yesterday?" Ghirahim pondered, his grin turning mischievous. Link risked a glance at Pipit, and to his dismay, saw that he was chatting with a group of other students, his back turned to Link.

Ghirahim stepped around Link to inspect, his expression shifting from one of delight to one of something close to sympathy, thought it was obvious he was faking.

"It seems I left quite the mark," he mused, his fingers brushing loose strands of hair from Link's face as he spoke. "I bet it stung pretty badly, hm? And if I remember correctly, you landed on your back…"

Link's eyes widened to the size of saucers when he felt the fabric of his shirt being lifted up, and he whirled around, smacking Ghirahim's hand away with such force that it sent them both stumbling back a step.

Ghirahim recovered quickly, looking at his hand as if seeing it for the first time, and then at Link. His smile was back, though, and he flicked his hair with all the nonchalance of a performer.

"Oh, are we shy?" he teased, tilting his head to one side and looking at Link contemplatively. He glanced up at the clock when the bell sounded to end the class, looking almost disappointed. Giving Link a shrug, he breezed past, towards his desk at the back of the classroom. His white hair swayed rhythmically as he strode along.

Link let him pass; refusing to look at Ghirahim or give any sign that he was uncomfortable. He picked up his own bag with as much grace as he could manage, waited for Pipit to join him and walked with him to Maths.

* * *

Link sat with Fledge and Pipit, trying to engage himself in their conversation about sports as much as was possible. When he got up to go to the bathroom, he steered clear of the route he normally took, where Ardaia or Rynae usually hung around. When he left, he took off down the corridor after doing a quick scan with his eyes, making his way back to the cafeteria. After a moment, he stopped outside a classroom with a frown, unsure of whether his eyes were playing tricks on him or not.

Rynae sat cross-legged on a wooden desk, staring down at the back of Ardaia's head and... braiding his hair? Rynae didn't exactly seem happy about it, but Ardaia was grinning from ear to ear as the other's thin fingers worked deftly through the strands. Ardaia's blue eyes caught sight of Link, and his grin faltered momentarily. Link tensed, backing away from the door.

"Hey Ghirahim, Link is-"

Link stiffened for a half-second before he took off, making a beeline for the cafeteria. He really didn't want a run-in with Ghirahim right now, not after what had happened in Horwell's class earlier, definitely not after that.

He got back to Pipit and Fledge, and realized he wasn't as hungry as he'd originally thought he was. Especially not for pizza which, as Fledge had told them, tasted like cardboard. He couldn't help allowing his eyes to wander toward the cafeteria's double doors for fear of Ghirahim making an entrance. However, all it did was prove just how on edge he really was.

Link jumped when Pipit shook his arm, watching Link in a mixture of amusement and slight worry.

"Link, these little ladies here are asking if they could sit with us," he said, gesturing with his thumb to a smiling Karane and Zelda. Orielle gave Link a friendly wave, her braids resting over her shoulders.

"You don't mind, right?" Karane asked, seating herself next to Pipit and pulling Zelda along with her. Orielle sat next to Fledge, whose already rosy cheeks turned an even brighter shade of red. She grinned at him and he gave her a sheepish smile.

"Hi, Link," said Zelda. Link grinned back at her.

"Hey."

"Oh!" said Karane, pounding a fist against the table and making everyone jump. "I nearly forgot. Are you guys able to go into town tomorrow after school instead of Saturday?"

"No problem," said Pipit. "Where are we headed, anyway?"

"How about the Bazaar?" Link suggested. It was in the heart of Skyloft, and very popular among students.

"Sounds great," said Orielle. She turned to Fledge with one eyebrow raised. "You coming too, Fledge?"

Fledge managed a "Y-Yeah, I am" with relative ease, scratching at the back of his neck and not making eye contact with the brunette.

Zelda fixed her hair ties, bracelets clicking against each other as she did so. "This will be really fun! Kina and Keet said they'd try to make it, too."

"Oh, fantastic," Karane groaned. "Those two are so Romeo and Juliet it's almost painful to watch."

"What do you mean?" asked Pipit, resting his head on one arm and looking up at Karane with raised eyebrows.

"Kina's father owns a really high-class restaurant," Zelda explained "the Lumpy Pumpkin. Because of how protective he is of Kina, he expects her to find someone who has some sort of income, I guess, someone with a secure job."

"And Keet wouldn't be the first person that would come to mind," said Orielle. "You know the type: never does homework, charms his way through life without a second thought about anything."

"But he's hopelessly in love with Kina," Karane said, lifting a hand to her forehead in a dramatic gesture. "And it's no mystery to anyone that she feels exactly the same way."

"You want to talk about who's in love?" Orielle asked. "That hippie, Ardaia, and his little pal with the messy hair."

"Oh, jeez," Zelda said. "Are we _really_ talking about this?"

Karane turned to Link and Pipit. "You wouldn't believe those two. Always flirting back and forth, but neither of them ever makes a move. Thick as thieves and passionate as any couple you could imagine, but never bothering to act on it. I can't figure it out."

"Oh, I can imagine," Link said dryly.

"Aren't they the ones who hang around with Ghirahim?" Fledge spoke up.

"Really?" said Pipit. "I thought nobody went near him."

"And not for no reason, either," Zelda muttered into her cup of water, taking a sip. "Anyone who sticks around him will run into trouble."

"He's so weird," said Orielle. "Since the day he first came in he was isolating himself from other people. Until last year he didn't talk to anyone, and then he met Ardaia and Rynae and went all flamboyant and a little crazy. Making light conversation and then insulting people back and forth, even the teachers."

"Ghirahim's always on edge," said Zelda, eyes narrowing in thought. "No one is ever really sure what mood he's in, or what he's going to do. He covers it up all the time with his smile."

"Though, he does have a sort of appeal to him," Karane remarked. "If he wasn't so strange, I bet he could be pretty popular. He's not all that bad-looking either."

Zelda raised her eyebrows, staring at Karane like she had two heads. "Do you hear yourself? We're talking about _Ghirahim_."

"I know that," Karane said with a roll of her eyes. "I'm just saying; he has everything he needs to be well-liked but just doesn't seem to want it, you know?"

Zelda shrugged. "Hm. Either way, I'll happily stay away from him."

Pipit and Fledge nodded their agreement, and Link tried to avoid meeting Zelda's gaze for fear of her realising what he'd been up to for the past few days.

"I'm going to go and get my books for the next classes," said Orielle, breaking the brief silence. "See you, guys."

"I'll go with you," said Karane. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Bye," Pipit called with a wave of his hand. He glanced at the clock at the same time Zelda did.

"I, um, I guess I'll be going," she said, picking up her sky blue bag and giving them all a small smile. "See you later."

"Later, Zelda," Link said, returning her smile. He got up and went along with Pipit and Fledge in the direction of their lockers. On the way, he spotted Rynae leaning against a bare wall watching him, but the teen made no move toward Link, just regarded him with slight hesitation before he turned and walked in the opposite direction.

"Are you okay, Link?" asked Fledge. Link gave Fledge a quick thumbs-up, looking away from Rynae and following his friends.

"Tomorrow will be great," said Pipit, swinging his locker door open. "I can feel it."

"I hope so," said Link, grabbing his History book before he shut the door. "The first week has been pretty eventful so far."

"You can say that again."

They arrived at Gaepora's classroom a couple of minutes early, unusually enough. Link sat at his desk, waiting for Zelda. He watched students drift in until she sat down next to him with a smile.

"Oh, I really am tired," said Zelda with a yawn. "But at least the week is nearly done."

"Yeah," Link agreed. "That I'm grateful for."

Zelda sat up a little straighter, looking at Link intently for a moment before she spoke.

"Where did you get that bruise?" she asked.

Link had to hide his surprise –and slight irritation- by feigning a yawn. How could he have forgotten about that? He nearly kicked himself for being so stupid.

"Oh, um… Well I was just turning a corner and there were some guys, swinging a baseball bat. Not a big deal, really."

"It looks like it hurts pretty bad," Zelda remarked. "Are you sure it's okay?"

"I'm fine, seriously," Link assured her. "Those guys… didn't mean it."

Zelda nodded, though she was clearly worried for him. "Alright, then."

Gaepora entered at that moment, sweeping in and announcing that they were going to look at the Reformation, much to Link's dismay. The topic didn't look interesting in the least, though Zelda seemed pretty eager about it. Like father, like daughter, Link supposed.

The day passed with relative ease, something Link was extremely thankful for. Ghirahim had nothing to say to Link, remaining silent and never communicating in any way, though he wore a smile for the rest of the day. Link didn't know the reason behind it, but Ghirahim looked impossibly smug. Link couldn't figure it out, and instead of driving himself insane trying to understand, he chose to continue ignoring Ghirahim for the rest of the day. And he did a good job of it, too.

* * *

"Haven't you ever fooled around with _anyone_?"

"Never had a girlfriend?"

Link grit his teeth for what must have been the millionth time in the past five minutes, fist clenching and unclenching. He was sitting in Owlan's laboratory, trying to take down notes on the way sound travelled through vibration and waves in the air, and trying not to listen to what Ghirahim was whispering.

"Sixteen, and you've never been kissed by anyone?" Ghirahim's laugh was condescending in every way.

"Oh, no, our little Link couldn't do such a thing," he continued, his voice like silk. "Too innocent for kissing people. He couldn't do it if he tried."

Link gripped his pen with such force he could feel it straining in his hold, and dropped it before it could snap. Ghirahim watched him with undisguised amusement.

"Surely someone as _graceful_ as yourself has had girls trailing after him?"

Link came close to telling Ghirahim to shut his mouth, but remembered his objective and stopped himself. He wasn't going to cave before Ghirahim did. Link wanted to see what put Ghirahim out of his comfort zone. Though, so far it hadn't really been working very well.

"Is that a vein popping out on your forehead?" Ghirahim asked slyly. "I do apologize if I've offended you, but when the person you're talking to and trying to get along with is completely ignorant of your efforts, it can become very frustrating. So, tell me, have you ever had a girl?"

Link said nothing, taking down notes with more force than was necessary, almost ripping his notebook's page at one point. Ghirahim's slight frown was in place again, and he ran his fingers through his hair before speaking again.

"Really, answer me," Ghirahim said, leaning toward Link ever so slightly. When he still got no response, he huffed an impatient breath that sounded almost childish. Link forced away his smile, coughing in an effort to disguise his laughter.

"_Answer me_!" Ghirahim hissed, and Link finally allowed himself to grin, abandoning his notes and turning to look Ghirahim in the eye.

"That's what puts you off," Link whispered in a rush, triumphant. "You can't stand being ignored by people. You think you have everyone all worked out, but you_ don't_. So you ask questions, but when you can't find the answers, it makes you really angry. That's where you're flawed."

Ghirahim's expression was blank, his eyes revealing nothing. But there was fury, a rage that hadn't showed itself for a long time. Even though Ghirahim tried to hide it, his discomfort was blatantly obvious. And Link enjoyed every second of it.

"You really are more than meets the eye," Ghirahim muttered, his fingers combing through his hair once more. "There's a lot more I have to show you, it would seem."

Link blinked, not having expected that kind of reaction. "What? What the hell are you talking about?"

Ghirahim's smile was back. "You didn't think I was going to let you run off, just because you've figured out one tiny, _microscopic_ thing about me, did you? I'm still going to mess you up, Link. Whether I have to do it by force or not is up to you."

"Why me?" Link demanded in a hushed whisper, furious. "Why the fixation on _me_? Do you just enjoy making my life miserable?"

Ghirahim grinned. "Ah, yet another thing that sets _you_ on edge: unwanted attention. Now that will be interesting, indeed."

Owlan looked up from his laptop in surprise when the bell rung, and dismissed the students with a wave of his arm.

"I'll see you around, Link," said Ghirahim as he got up, pulling his red hood up. "And I'll get to know you even _better_."

And like that, he was gone, weaving through students and desks alike to get to the door. Link stood watching, holding his bag in one hand and twirling his pen between the fingers of the other.

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire," he said to himself, shaking his head and letting out a regretful sigh as he threw his bag over his shoulder. So much for Pipit's good feeling about Friday.

**A/N: I hope you enjoyed it! Make sure to tell me what you thought!**


	7. The Bazaar

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! Here is chapter seven. Thank you for reviews, follows and favourites! Enjoy the chapter!**

**Thanks to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading!**

Link groaned when the ball sailed effortlessly through the basketball hoop, sticking his tongue out at Orielle as her teammates patted her on the back in celebration. Parrow clapped his hands together loudly.

"Well done! Keep moving!" he shouted, waving his hands. He jumped backward when Groose hurtled past, the ball bouncing in front of him as he made his way up to the other side of the court. Link forced himself into a run and managed to catch up to Groose, running alongside him and trying to reach for the ball. Groose glared at him, sneering down at Link as he breathed heavily.

"What do you think you're doing, pipsqueak?" he demanded. "It's my time to shine!"

"Come on, Link!" Pipit yelled from one side of the gym. Link didn't reply, instead dodging Groose's elbow as the bulky teen tried to shove Link out of the way. Link ducked under Groose's arm and snagged the ball mid-bounce, immediately switching directions and running for the other hoop.

Link heard Groose complaining loudly, and the encouraging cheers of others on his team. Pipit and Zelda were practically screeching at him to run, warning him when team members came too close.

"Watch yourself!" Pipit called when Link narrowly avoided getting stopped by Keet, doing an awkward spin on one foot to get around him. He looked up briefly and his eyes immediately found the basket, it was just waiting, the other team had already given up, the score was his!

"Why, hello there," said Ghirahim, jogging backwards, right beside Link.

Link gave a startled noise and nearly lost control of the ball, scooping it out of the air and bouncing it against the floor while he tried to figure out a way to get past Ghirahim.

"Can't you… leave me alone …for just… _one class_?" Link asked, trying to circle around Ghirahim but being forced to stop when Ghirahim mirrored his movements, showing his pearly teeth in a delighted grin.

"I just want to see how good you are at sport," said Ghirahim, "since you're obviously _very_ lacking in fighting skills."

Link huffed impatiently, moving to the left and spotting Orielle waiting to take a run at him, looking back to Ghirahim in exasperation.

"You ought to move quickly," he commented, poised on his toes as Link had seen him do before. "Darling little Zelda is watching."

Frustrated beyond caring, Link threw the ball toward the hoop with as much strength as he could find in himself. The ball hit the board above the hoop, but instead of falling through as Link had hoped it would, it simply ricocheted after a bang, sailing back over Link's head in a long arc. He turned to find the members of his team either running for the ball again or giving him sympathetic looks. Groose wore an arrogant smirk, jogging off to grab the ball again.

"Oh, how _terribly_ unfortunate," Ghirahim said, pretending to examine his nails.

Link almost snapped back at him, throwing the other teen a dirty look over his shoulder, but chose to run to where Pipit was facing off with Karane, each of them grinning and fighting for control of the ball bouncing madly between them.

After a brief struggle which involved Pipit leaping in mid-air and dropping to the floor in an awkward roll, the ball was back in the possession of their team, and Pipit ran with everything he had toward the other hoop.

Link joined in the encouraging shouts of the other students, Zelda included, but then remembered Ghirahim was up there, standing in an almost slouched way, though still managing to make it look incredibly graceful like a dancer. He anticipated Pipit's movements with an off-putting serenity, just waiting as if he stood at a bus stop.

Link followed on Pipit's heels, and when his friend gave him a confused look in return, he nodded in Ghirahim's direction. Pipit caught onto Link's train of thought and veered away from Ghirahim while Link headed straight for him.

"Don't ruin this for Pipit," he ordered, placing himself in front of Ghirahim while Pipit found another way of getting to the hoop, dodging around players who had made their way up this far.

"The fact that you would accuse me of that is rather disheartening," said Ghirahim. "But I'll lay off your friend for now. Let me guess, he's trying out for the basketball team."

Link glanced at Pipit, the brunet readying himself for the shot as Keet fought to snatch the ball from him.

"Yeah," he said, watching for some sort of reaction from Ghirahim but getting none. Satisfied with keeping away from him, Link joined Pipit and battled Keet and Orielle off of his friend, allowing him to finally take his shot.

"_Yes_!" Pipit shouted, whooping as the ball went right through the hoop. Link grinned at him, patting his friend on the shoulder as Zelda, Fledge and Kina rushed to congratulate him. Karane gave them a sly grin, retreating along with the other members of her team.

"And I think it's time we stopped for the day," said Parrow. He pointed in the direction of Pipit and Link's team, smiling at them. "Sixteen points to fourteen, good job."

Pipit invited Link to go and talk with Parrow about basketball, and Link just shrugged, trailing after his friend as Pipit grabbed Parrow by the forearm. The gym teacher turned to look at them quizzically, his face brightening when he saw who it was.

"I was just going to call you over," he said happily. "You guys should consider trying out for basketball."

"Us guys?" Link echoed. "Oh, no, I'm not that-"

"Oh, come on!" Parrow insisted. "It'll be fun. Don't let Ghirahim get you down; he's a class above everyone else."

Link frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

Parrow sighed, shrugging his massive shoulders as he did so. "Well, I'm sure you've seen him. The guy has enough confidence for ten of us, and rightly so. He's one of the brightest kids you'll ever meet. Not book smart, but genius, and fantastic in sport, though he never tries out for any teams."

Pipit's breath came out in a sharp whistle. "Wow. Everyone else said he was a slacker, just scraping passes."

"Nobody really knows what goes on in that kids' mind," said Parrow. "But, more importantly, I want to see you two here on Wednesday for basketball trials! Doesn't matter if you don't make the team, so long as you show up."

"We'll be there," said Pipit, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Link couldn't help but smile at his eagerness: Pipit really was made for sport. Link himself wasn't exactly excited for the trials, but he supposed the least he could do was show up.

"I'll be seeing you guys, then, you don't want to be late for your next class," Parrow said, picking up a stray basketball. "Who have you got next anyway?"

"Jakamar," said Link, "for English."

"Oh, that guy," Parrow laughed. "He's kind of an airhead sometimes. But he's got good intentions. Later, guys!"

They waved their goodbyes and ran for their English classroom, mumbling a hasty apology to Jakamar as they made for their seats, flicking open Les Miserables on the page they'd bookmarked. Link tried not to let his eyelids droop and redirected his energy into folding the corner of the page forward and back as he listened to Jakamar drone on about poor Fantine and her awful life.

"A question," Ghirahim's smooth voice called after a while. Jakamar looked up in surprise, spotting Ghirahim at the back. Zelda rolled her eyes, looking down at her own copy of the book with a little more ferocity in her gaze than before.

"What is it?" asked Jakamar, his dark eyebrows raised slightly.

"If Fantine is likely never going to see her daughter again, why does she go through all of this just to send those innkeepers money for her caretaking? Not to mention that the girl isn't really being cared for."

Jakamar's brow furrowed as he looked at Ghirahim curiously. "Well, son, she-"

"I'm _not_ your son," Ghirahim interrupted. "But go on."

Jakamar blinked, shaking his head a little before he answered. "It's, well… I mean, why else would she be doing it? She loves her daughter."

"Yes, but is it really worth having her hair cut off, having to sell two of her teeth, having to _prostitute_ herself?"

"I… Well, that's the point," Jakamar tried. "Fantine shows us just how far a mother will go to take care of her child. The same way any parent would try to protect their children at all costs."

"Not all parents follow those rules," Ghirahim muttered, almost too low to be heard. He stared down at his copy of Les Miserables with a look of disgust on his face. Other students, as well as Link, gazed at him curiously from the corner of their eyes. Zelda merely adjusted her hair and shook her head disapprovingly.

"Now, ah, where were we?" Jakamar said, his eyes scanning the page before coming to a stop. "Oh, yes, okay. Let's keep on, then…"

Link waited for Jakamar to continue before he sneaked a glance at Ghirahim. The pale teen's head was resting on his palm, a glare on his face. His brown eyes flickered upward and caught Link's gaze. He gave a small wave, grinning, before looking down at his book again. Link scowled at him, returning his attention to Jakamar.

After what felt like a long time, the bell rang and the students were dismissed. Pipit leapt out of his chair, stuffing his book into his bag as he hopped from one foot to the next.

"Thank heavens," he said. "I've got to run to the bathroom, Link. Be back in a bit."

Pipit shot off before Link could reply, shoving past students and apologising over his shoulder. Link shook his head, grinning at his friend's antics. He put away his own things and scooped his bag up, swinging it over one shoulder as he got up.

"Fifteen minutes," said Ghirahim softly. Link's gaze drifted upward slowly, meeting Ghirahim's eyes reluctantly.

"I'll see you then," Ghirahim said, turning on his heel and walking away. Link stood up straighter before he spoke.

"Since when do you just get to dictate what I do with myself?" he asked, irritated. Ghirahim looked over his shoulder with a smile before turning around fully.

"Oh, I'm _ever_ so sorry," he said, pulling the hood of his jumper up. "Would you like to come and join us in fifteen minutes?"

"Not particularly, no. I could be spending some time with my friends, you know."

"You'll see them after school, I'm sure. You've made plans."

Link lifted one eyebrow in puzzlement. "How did you know that?"

Ghirahim grinned. "Eyes-and-ears, some might call them spies."

"Ardaia and Rynae," Link muttered. "Should have known."

"You really are unobservant," Ghirahim laughed. "Don't forget, Link, that I call the shots. If I don't see you at lunch time, then I can guarantee you won't like what happens. Remember I promised that you would come to enjoy my company? That was one promise I don't intend to break."

Link just stared at him in near-disbelief, lips parted. "That's-"

"_That's_ a fact," Ghirahim cut across him, giving Link one more wave before he began walking away again. "I'll see you."

"I'm not coming!" Link argued, and Ghirahim laughed loudly. He didn't turn this time, but Link heard him clearly.

"Remember this, Link: the _devil_ tips his hat to me."

Link's glare dissipated at that last remark, and he waited for a long twenty seconds before he sighed and made his own way out of the classroom, finding Fledge in the cafeteria, obviously waiting for Link and Pipit. They bought Pipit's lasagne for him and sat down to wait for him.

"Today will be great," said Fledge. "I haven't been downtown with anyone in, well…"

"I know what you mean," Link replied with a smile. Fledge's cheeks turned a darker shade of red than usual.

"Have you really never hung out with any of them?"

Fledge shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "Nah, not me. They're not half as awkward around people as I am. And, well…" Fledge gave a nervous laugh. "None of them really like video games."

Link grinned. "I can see how that would be a problem."

"A big one," Fledge agreed, poking at his lasagne with his plastic fork. He yelped in surprise when Pipit sneaked up from behind, grabbing Fledge's shoulders and shaking him. Pipit grinned at his reaction, sliding himself onto a stool and taking his lasagne from Link.

"You're _way_ too easy to spook, Fledge," Pipit said, shaking his head. "Seriously, for the past three days."

Fledge rolled his eyes, looking to Link in exasperation. "He's right; he's managed to scare me every day since Tuesday."

Link frowned, trying to recall those incidents and ending up with nothing. "I don't remember Pipit trying to scare you."

"That's because you're always disappearing at lunch time," Pipit said through a mouthful of lasagne. His shrug was casual, but it sparked a small flare of jealousy in Link all the same. He and Pipit had always spent their days together. The thought of Pipit becoming closer to another person was entirely new to Link, and it made him feel overprotective and immature.

"You're not going to vanish again today, are you?" Pipit asked.

Link took his time with his lasagne, eyes darting to the clock. There was two of the fifteen minutes left. Fingers twitching ever so slightly on the table, he shot a grin at Pipit and Fledge.

"Of course not," he told them, and could practically feel Ghirahim's anger, see the enraged expression. But he didn't get up, even when the clock told him he should have been gone five minutes ago. Instead, he sat and had a long discussion about controversies surrounding the Tomb Raider franchise that lasted for a whole half an hour.

After a fierce series of opinions and disagreements, the three drifted toward their lockers while Pipit teased Fledge and Link about Orielle and Zelda respectively. They managed to ignore his snide comments until finally Link opted for punching him in the ribs, laughing when he saw the false glare his friend responded with.

His laughter faded when he spotted an all-too-familiar redhead towering over other students as he passed them. His eyes met Link's and his expression shifted to one of worry. Link watched him, lips set in a firm line, as Ardaia beckoned with his fingers for Link to come closer. Link tried to ignore him and return to Fledge and Pipit's chatting, but it was clear Ardaia wasn't giving up any time soon.

Exasperated, Link slammed the door of his locker shut, making Fledge squeak in alarm. Pipit raised an eyebrow in question, and Link threw him an apologetic look.

"Sorry," he said, moving away to where Ardaia waited on one end of the corridor. Link glared up at him, wishing yet again that he was a little taller.

Ardaia gave him a nervous smile. "Hey, I'm sorry about this."

"You mean for _spying_ on me?" Link demanded. Ardaia held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Look, now's not the time to worry about that, believe it or not. But, I just thought you'd want to know that Ghirahim is mad at you."

"I figured he would be." Link couldn't help feeling proud of himself.

"No, Link, he's _really_ mad," Ardaia insisted, his blue eyes troubled. "As in, smashing a bottle and storming out of the school. Rynae can't find him anywhere."

"What? He got that mad? I know he doesn't like being ignored, but-"

"Watch your back, Link," Ardaia interrupted. "He's not going to let this slide."

Ardaia turned to walk away, his long ponytail swishing as he did so.

"Ardaia!" Link called. He readied himself for a chase, but Ardaia had already taken off at a jog, avoiding any students he might run into. Link watched him go, feeling his stomach clench unpleasantly. Definitely not the good feeling Pipit had talked about.

"What was that all about?" Pipit asked. Link jumped, not having realised his friends were so close.

"Uh, he was looking for his friend," Link said. "Rynae."

"That's no surprise," Fledge replied. "You don't usually see one without the other, though."

Pipit threw his hands up. "Oh, who cares? Let's get the day over with and then we can go into town."

Link nodded in agreement, his eyes on the door Ardaia had disappeared through. He went along with his friends to Fi's classroom. She surprised Link by stopping him on the way in, regarding him with deep blue eyes.

"You seem to be on edge, Link," she said, her monotone voice devoid of any emotion. "Is something wrong?"

Link looked at her with raised eyebrows, taking a moment to respond. "What? Oh, no. No, I'm fine. Thanks."

He could feel Fi's eyes trained on him for the remainder of the class, but he made a point of staring out of the nearest window, or glaring at the equations he'd written down in his notebook. Pipit seemed to pick up on his mood and didn't bother his friend.

* * *

When at last the day was over, Link and Pipit met up with Zelda and Karane at the girls' lockers. They found Fledge at his and Orielle arrived after a moment, eager to get out of school.

"Well, are we going?" she asked, swinging her red bag over her shoulder with a smile. "I want to enjoy the first weekend."

"Me too; let's go," Karane agreed, leading the way out of the school. Link walked alongside Pipit, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. He snapped out of his daydreaming when he felt someone tap him lightly on the shoulder. Zelda smiled happily at him. She wore a purple shirt over a sky blue skirt. Green and pink ribbons were intertwined with her blonde strands of hair, shining under the sun. Link couldn't help smiling back.

"How was your day?" she asked.

"Fine, just glad to be out of here," Link replied.

"Me too. Say, do you want to come round to my house for dinner? After we're done in town, I mean."

Link's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks growing warm. He cast a pleading gaze in Pipit's direction, but his friend was talking animatedly to Karane about basketball, oblivious to Link's cry for help.

"Um," he said. "Well, why not?"

Zelda beamed at him. "Great! I can introduce you to my father properly. He's not half as bad at home as he is in school, I promise."

Link laughed. "That's a relief to hear."

They reached the Bazaar in good time, piling in and taking a look around. The Bazaar was at the heart of Skyloft, at one of the highest points in the town. Further out, buildings were larger, belonging to bigger companies and richer people. Not a lot of people left town unless they were going to the Lumpy Pumpkin, which was a popular place for adults to get together and have a drink.

Link realised it had been quite a while since he'd been here. Nearly everything had changed. Shops were no longer spread out all over the area. Instead, they were grouped together in a circle, shopkeepers shouting loudly about what they were selling. Rupin, a greedy salesman with a little too much enthusiasm, was waving his arms frantically in an effort to attract attention. Luv mixed all sorts of sugary drinks –and occasionally a little alcohol- into colourful concoctions that gave huge boosts of energy. Her husband Bertie stood to the side, rocking a young child back and forth and looking exhausted. The smells of fresh soup and baked goods wafted through the air while Piper stirred the contents of her cooking pot with care.

"It's always so lively here," Orielle remarked. "Everyone's always bustling about or shouting."

"The whole town's like this," said Pipit. "For a place with such a small population, Skyloft really is lively."

They passed the Item Check, once a popular trading post, ignoring the glare of Peatrice, the sarcastic and often rude girl who worked there. She glowered as they shuffled by her, her head resting precariously on her hand as her eyelids drooped.

Rupin rushed up to meet them, grabbing Pipit and practically dragging him over to where his goods were lined up.

"A kid like you will want a remote controlled car, surely?" Rupin asked hopefully. "Half price, today only!"

Pipit looked at Rupin as if the man had two heads. Rupin was ridiculous at the best of times, but a toy car?

"Eh, no thanks," Pipit declined. "Not for me."

Rupin's usual grin faltered, but his eyes fell on Fledge and seemed to shine with greed. He took Fledge by the arm, and made the same offer. However, he didn't mention it was half price.

"Um, that's okay, I really don't-"

"Nonsense!" said Rupin. "I'll give it to you for-!"

"He's _not_ buying it," Orielle snapped, pulling Fledge away and glaring at Rupin. Rupin scowled back, cold as ice.

"I see," he muttered, striding off and leaving the group to themselves.

"That man is such a cheat," said Karane. "All he lives for is money."

"Hey, why don't we go talk to Sparrot?" Pipit suggested. "That crazy little man will look into our very souls!"

Laughing at Pipit's imitations, they found Sparrot sitting at his tiny stall, a crystal ball sitting in front of him. He lifted his round head to stare at the teens that had arrived. Link unashamedly averted his eyes, and the others followed suit. Sparrot's piercing gaze was one that not a lot of people could match.

"Ah, the youth have decided to come and see what lies before them," he droned, hands moving in circular patterns over the crystal ball. "Come close, and I shall tell each of you what events have yet to occur."

Pipit went first, sitting down on a purple cushion and locking eyes with Sparrot. The little man was speaking rapidly in hushed tones, so that even when they leaned in, the others couldn't hear what was being said. When Pipit stood, grinning, Orielle took his place. Karane went next, and then Fledge, then Zelda and finally it was Link's turn.

"Look into my eyes…" Sparrot ordered, and Link met his gaze after a moment of brief hesitation. Sparrow had always freaked him out.

"Hmm…" Sparrot's eyebrows drew into a small frown, and Link waited with trepidation.

"Is… Is something-?"

"_Do not speak_!" Sparrot hissed, never blinking. "… Ah, yes. I see it now. You are associated with another who shuts people out. He rejects sympathy and compassion despite his fear of becoming invisible. You are the contrast. You must become the light in his life. Your task is to help him recover."

Link sat in stunned silence, unable to believe what he'd just been told. There was no way Sparrot knew that, no way whatsoever. He shook his head in denial while Sparrot nodded fiercely. He broke the eye contact with Link and shooed him off with a waving of his arms.

"Go, now, all of you," he commanded. "Walk the path that was intended for you."

The group did as they were told, rounding the corner before they all collapsed into laughter, with the exclusion of Link.

"What did he tell you guys?" he asked, faking a laugh.

"Apparently I'm going to be captain of the basketball team," said Pipit. "And I'm going to fail Maths!"

"I'm destined to be a great racer," said Orielle. "Just like my brother."

"I'm going to do well in History," Fledge said with a relieved smile. Karane laughed.

"He told me I'd fail! But that I'd do great in Science. Who knew?"

"He told me I was going to be in a position of high importance one day," Zelda said, looking delighted. "I'd make some really important decisions."

Pipit looked at Link expectantly, and Link smiled back with as much enthusiasm as he could manage.

"Um, well, he said that… I wouldn't make the basketball team. But that I'd do well in English."

"Shame about the basketball," Pipit said, and then shrugged. "At least you can expect good things from English."

"Yeah, guess so," Link agreed half-heartedly. "But, Sparrot's demented. Everyone knows that."

"Pah! Let's just get something to drink."

They sat down at one of Piper's tables, waving to the two men sitting at the other –Croo and Dovos- however; they were too immersed in conversation to notice.

"Piper!" Pipit called. "Could you bring us all a glass of cola?"

"In a minute!" Piper replied, never turning from her cooking. "Let me finish this soup first."

"Oh, let me get the drinks, then," Pipit said, getting up and joining Piper. Though she scowled at him, it was clearly false. Piper and Mallara were good friends, so Pipit and Link were familiar with her being a perfectionist. People were nearly always kept waiting for her food.

Pipit filled the glasses up himself and brought them back, three glasses in each hand. He sat down with a grin.

"Maybe I'll be a waiter. It'd certainly speed things up around here."

"I heard that!" Piper warned, laughing all the same.

"I'm so glad we did this," Zelda said, setting down her glass. "Though it's too bad Keet and Kina never showed up."

Karane shrugged. "Their loss anyway."

They finished their drinks and wandered aimlessly around stalls, blocking their ears as they neared Gondo, who was hammering relentlessly at his newest contraption. Gondo was known for making tons of tools and useful inventions. He was also famed for the amount of noise he made, too.

When six o'clock hit and the sky was starting to darken, Orielle said her goodbyes, and Fledge received a phone call a few minutes later; his mother, telling him it was time to go home. Karane had to leave a few minutes afterwards, leaving Pipit, Link and Zelda.

"If I remember correctly," Pipit said with a sly grin, "you two are heading off on your own. So in that case, I'll be off!"

"Bye, Pipit!" Zelda called after him, waving. Link gave him a wave, too, taking a deep breath before facing Zelda.

"So…" he trailed off, not sure what to say or do.

"Shall we?" Zelda laughed, taking him by the arm. Link glanced down to where her fingers rested on his forearm, and couldn't do anything to stop a grin spreading over his face.

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Be sure to tell me what you thought of it!**


	8. Fickle

**Threads Of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! Here is chapter eight! Thank you for reviews, follows and favourites! Slight Ghiralink here, but nothing much really. Enjoy the chapter!**

"Zelda tells me that you're very good at art," Gaepora said in his rumbling voice, using his fork to point in Link's direction as he spoke. Link flushed when Zelda smiled at him eagerly from the opposite side of the dinner table.

He and Zelda had made their way to her house with as much awkwardness as was possible in the space of fifteen minutes. It wasn't that they had nothing much to talk about, but repeated texts from Pipit and Karane taunting them had them both giggling nervously and blushing scarlet by the time they reached Zelda's suburban home.

It was rather nice, Link had to admit. Blue, yellow and green seemed to be the colour scheme, and paintings of clouds and bright sunrises decorated the hallway that led into the dining room where Link sat with Zelda and her father. Unlike Mallara's dusty home, everything here was polished to a gleam, and none of the plates had any cracks or chipping marks. Link felt both elated and nervous. And the presence of the quiet woman called Impa didn't help him.

Clothed in black, red and orange, her long, blonde braid swung back and forth like a pendulum. Her piercing gaze took in everything. Zelda told Link that Impa had been her caretaker when she was younger. As she grew older, however, there was no more need for a nurse. Impa simply became a permanent resident in Gaepora's home. Her scrutiny set Link on edge a little, though he didn't let Zelda see it. Instead, he smiled and addressed Gaepora as calmly as he could.

"I'm okay," he said, staring down at his slice of apple tart. "I like it, but I'm not great."

"Come on, Link," Zelda encouraged, her smile bright. "Your drawing of Mia was fantastic!"

"You drew Mia?" Gaepora asked, frowning. "When?"

"In school," Link clarified. "Horwell brought her in so that we could draw her."

"Ah, I see," Gaepora nodded. "He looks after every animal he finds. I must thank him properly someday."

Zelda rolled her eyes. "He's calling over tomorrow, father. Just tell him then."

Gaepora smiled at his daughter before he swallowed another mouthful of his dessert. Link didn't think it was quite as nice as Mallara's cooking, but the food was delicious all the same, and he was grateful for Gaepora's hospitality.

"Your friend Pipit is quite the character," the large man remarked. Link nodded his agreement.

"Yeah, Pipit is something else."

"You appear to be very close," said Gaepora. "I understand that you both came to Her Grace's together?"

"I sort of, well, live with Pipit and his mother," Link explained. "So we usually stick with each other."

"Oh? I didn't know that," Zelda said. "Is there a reason for you living with him?"

"My… My parents were killed in a car accident when I was younger," Link said, twiddling his fork between his fingers. "Pipit and Mallara took me in."

He looked up when he felt Zelda's hand on his own, a gesture of comfort. She radiated sympathy, her eyes full of concern for him.

"I'm sorry, Link," she apologised. "I shouldn't have pried."

Link shook his head. "No, no it's not your fault. It's fine, don't worry."

Zelda gave him a small smile. "My mother died when I was four, so I know how this feels. Thank you for telling me, though, Link."

Link gave her a sheepish smile in return. "Uh, no problem."

The two hastily averted their gazes when Gaepora cleared his throat pointedly, and Link felt Zelda's hand withdrawing. He scrubbed a hand through his hair, embarrassed, and glanced at the clock: Eight fifteen.

"I, eh, I should probably get going," Link said, setting down his fork, and Gaepora nodded approvingly.

"I'll show you out," Zelda offered, abandoning her own food and getting up from the table not a second after Link. She led him past paintings of graceful birds and portraits of god-like figures to the front door.

"It's pretty dark out," she remarked. "Will you be alright?"

"I'll be fine, don't worry," Link assured her with a smile. "The street lights are on, in any case."

Zelda smiled back at him. "I'm so glad you came to Her Grace's, Link."

She blinked as if remembering something, and laughed nervously. "And Pipit, too, of course."

Link grinned, unable to stop himself. "You're ever so welcome."

Zelda, her cheeks a faint red, opened the door for him and waved him goodbye as he started down the street to the apartment block. Link waited until she shut the door before he allowed himself to laugh delightedly, taking off at a jog.

The street lights had flickered on, casting an orange glow over Skyloft's wide streets. Link looked up at the stars that appeared one by one as if triggered by the sun's setting. Not a lot of people came outside at night, but Link found he liked the tranquillity. There was hardly any noise, nothing to disturb Link as he thought to himself, humming quietly.

Link kicked a can and it went skittering along the pavement, the sound echoing in the otherwise empty area. Link flinched at the unwelcome noise, shoving his hands in his pockets and glancing up at the street lights that kept his path clear.

Even with all that light, though, one silhouette was easy to spot, much to his displeasure. Seeming to be almost veiled in darkness, the person stood with one leg slightly bent, arms crossed. Shadow hid their features, but Link had a feeling he already knew who it was. And sure enough, when they stepped out into the glow of one light, Link immediately recognized the ruffled white hair cast over one dark eye, the red hoodie covering immaculate, pale skin. The only thing missing was Ghirahim's signature smile.

Link unconsciously took a half-step back from the other's sour expression, his nose scrunching up when he caught the scent of cheap, store-bought alcohol. Everything from his lazy posture to the way his eyes were slightly glazed told Link that Ghirahim was drunk, and angry, too.

"I see you decided not to show up today," said Ghirahim. Even drunk, his voice was still velvety smooth. Link couldn't help noticing how angular the darkness made him look, highlighting the point of his chin, the way his head was tilted slightly to the left.

"I hear you took your anger out on a wine bottle," Link spoke up, his voice sounding a lot more confident than he felt. Judging by how venomous Ghirahim's expression had turned, the paler teen was clearly furious.

"I am the one who calls the shots here," Ghirahim said, his voice straining a little. Link watched his fingers twitch rapidly, fascinated by the way the joints moved so quickly. He shook himself, locking eyes with Ghirahim again.

"Since when?" he asked. "Who made _you_ the boss? What's so great about you, anyways? You spend your time smoking and drinking, while-"

"Shut up!" Ghirahim snapped. "Shut _up_!"

Startled at the ferocity behind his words, Link paused for a moment before he glared back at Ghirahim in defiance.

"No; I'm not done," he said. "You're a junkie. You're lazy, arrogant, spiteful and manipulative. I don't know why you haven't been expelled yet, you're just-"

"_SHUT UP_!"

Link heard the noise, but the pain of the blow didn't register until he had stumbled a metre to the right, gasping loudly at the pain he felt spreading over his jawbone. He blinked, and for a few seconds he merely saw silver stars dancing in his line of vision. After he recovered, he realized there were tears in his eyes and blinked them away before he dared look back at Ghirahim.

The other teen was still, his gloved hands back at his sides once more, quivering as if they were being physically restrained. Link didn't dismiss that thought; not after experiencing that pain.

He'd never been hit like that until he met Ghirahim. Howards Academy had been a horrible place but fights could always be avoided if you were as careful as he had been. Mallara would never raise a hand to anyone, and from what he could remember of his own parents, they'd never so much as threatened to hurt him.

But that punch had shocked him, not because of how painful it was, but because of the malice behind it. If Ghirahim's intention had been to startle him, then he had definitely succeeded. Right now, Link was shaking like a leaf in the wind. And not just because of how cold it was.

Ghirahim hadn't stopped watching him, his eyes cold as frost. The muscles of his legs were tensed, and the way his arms were wrapped tightly around his middle gave Link the impression that Ghirahim might really be refraining himself from lashing out again.

Link steadied himself with a deep breath, keeping up the eye contact as best as he could. Tears again threatened to appear but he blinked them away with another slow breath.

"That… that was really uncalled for," he said. "Seriously."

"I told you to stop talking," Ghirahim muttered, his eyes flickering downward to observe the stone paving, the glow of the street lights reflected in his dark eyes. He blinked twice, slowly, before he returned his attention to Link with a flick of his hair. "I told you to be quiet, and you kept talking."

Link's lips parted in disbelief. "Really? You're speaking to me like I'm a child. And in case you don't remember, _we're the same age._"

A hint of a smile played on Ghirahim's lips as he spoke his next words. "Not exactly. I am six months and two days older than-"

"That's not the _point_!" Link said, exasperated and highly annoyed. "What I'm saying is that I can't see why you're the 'king' or whatever else it is that people call you. I mean, what about you is so great that someone like Fledge couldn't be the one people kept their distance from?"

"People _do_ keep their distance from Fledge," Ghirahim pointed out with a smirk.

"There!" Link jabbed a finger in his direction. "That is _exactly_ what I'm trying to say. You are cruel, ignorant and ungrateful. You just like to mess with other people! I don't know what Ardaia and Rynae see in you, but whatever it is, you haven't bothered to show anyone else!"

Ghirahim's eyes widened ever so slightly, actually looking hurt, his eyebrows lifting a few millimetres. He looked like he was trying to hide his reaction, but Link saw right through it.

"Zelda said you have charm," he said. "She said you're able to make people believe things that they wouldn't dream of."

"I _must_ thank her for the compliment," Ghirahim sneered. Link ignored him.

"I don't want that! I don't want to be manipulated by you! Why are you so fascinated with _me_, for god's sake? I'm a new student! I haven't even been here for a month and you've gotten me drunk, made me smoke, and beaten me up. What's your problem?"

Ghirahim stared and stared for a long time, and Link waited uncomfortably for his response. Finally, after a few minutes of chill silence, Ghirahim spoke softly.

"Go home, Link," he ordered, relaxing his stance. "Have a nice weekend. But remember this. The next time you run off and don't do what I say, I'll do more than just punch you. A _lot_ more."

Link stiffened as Ghirahim brushed his sleeve while passing, laughing quietly. In all honesty, Link wanted nothing more than to punch Ghirahim back, to make him feel the same pain. But he wasn't about to stoop to that level, not again.

When the gentle sound of footsteps faded, Link started forward at a jog, heading for home and ignoring the small noises that accompanied the streets of Skyloft at ten o'clock.

"Mallara will murder me," Link told himself, knowing it wasn't exactly true and yet still fretting over it. Mallara would be worried about him if anything. He had a bad feeling his jawline would end up being bruised pretty badly. And he could only imagine the teasing Pipit would force on him, thanks to his being late.

* * *

And oh, how he was teased.

Not only did Pipit interrogate him when he got back, he kept it up for the whole weekend: while they did their homework, while they spent hours playing through Portal or Medal of Honour.

"Link and Zelda, Zelda and Link. It has a nice ring to it," he would say.

"She told Karane she likes your eyes. And your smile. Let's not forget your _flawless_ hair, either."

"So when are you two getting engaged?"

It all irked Link to no end, but it was exactly what he'd expected from Pipit. Mallara's worry was what had really made him feel bad.

When he arrived home in the dark, exhausted from running to their apartment and up three flights of stairs, she had looked about to faint. Whether it was from distress or relief, Link couldn't tell. She'd immediately found an ice pack for his jaw, worrying over his condition and firing questions at him even as he assured her that he was fine. He didn't blame her for warning him about getting home on time.

Now, sitting with a PlayStation controller in hand alongside Pipit, his journey home was being investigated once more.

"Didn't you see what they looked like?" Pipit asked. He was sprawled over his beanbag while Link slouched lazily on the couch.

"I told you," he said, "I couldn't see him properly. Too dark."

"Probably just some junkie," said Pipit, his expression disgusted. "Do you think he was drunk?"

"He smelled bad," Link commented, smiling a little. Taking a stab at Ghirahim when no one actually knew who he was referring to felt surprisingly good.

Pipit grinned. "You have got to be the most unlucky person I know."

Link groaned when his game character was shot down by a series of bullets courtesy of Pipit. His friend laughed triumphantly, and Link folded his arms across his middle with a huff of annoyance.

"I'm definitely not lucky, that's for sure."

"Nah. Say, what do you think about a Super Mario marathon?"

It was Link's turn to grin, turning to look at his friend with renewed mischief. "Let's do it."

* * *

"We are _never_ having a forty-eight hour gaming marathon again," Link moaned, stumbling into his seat on the bus. Pipit crashed into him, rubbing at his eyes. Link noted the bags there, felt how heavy his own eyelids were. So tired…

"Don't you fall asleep now," Pipit warned, but contradicted himself by yawning, his eyes fluttering as they blinked in an attempt to keep himself awake.

"Whatever," Link mumbled, his eyes already closed. "Night."

Pipit's laugh was more of a rasp than anything. His head stooped slightly forward, he drifted off not two seconds after Link.

However, their brief rest was quickly interrupted when the bus slowed to a halt outside of Her Grace's. Reluctantly, the teens pushed themselves out of their seats and trudged in the direction of the grey buildings. They barely registered Groose shoving them out of the way, or Zelda and Kina's efforts to bring them back to life.

"Seriously, are you guys feeling okay?" Kina asked, a hand on Pipit's shoulder. Zelda looked them up and down with an expression of worry and just a hint of sternness.

"You look like you might fall over any second now," she said.

"We're fine," Pipit grated out. "Just tired."

He and Link shared a glance of mutual understanding, and they said goodbye to the girls, heading straight for their base classroom and sinking into the first chairs they saw. Even the uncomfortable seating was a relief. Pipit sighed loudly, watching Link with one eye closed, and the other just barely managing to keep open. Link imagined he looked much the same.

"Next time," Pipit spoke through his yawn. "Next time we wait for a holiday."

"Next time?" If Link wasn't so worn out, he would have laughed. "I didn't think there was going to be a next time."

Pipit managed a sleepy smile. "There's always a next time, Link. More games to play, more challenges to beat."

"I didn't even know you _had_ that many Mario games," Link remarked. "Or consoles to play them on."

Pipit just gave his friend another smile, opening his mouth for yet another huge yawn. He glanced up, as did Link, when they heard someone drumming their fingers on the desk. Link's stomach twisted when he saw the hand was gloved, immediately spotting the golden bracelet that could only belong to one person.

"You both appear to be quite exhausted," Ghirahim practically sang. "Don't you know staying up late on a school night _always_ ends disastrously?"

Pipit said nothing at all, just looked at Ghirahim with wide eyes. Link's blue ones narrowed in spite.

"Shut up," he spat, throwing Ghirahim's words right back at him while trying to ignore the shock that replaced Pipit's nervousness. Ghirahim, too, appeared to be pretty surprised, though he merely made a 'humph' sound before he spoke again.

"It also seems to take quite the toll on your good manners," Ghirahim said, his frown back in place. Link ignored him, willing to be left alone. After a minute passed, Ghirahim laughed quietly, spinning on his heel and walking out of the classroom just as Fledge made his entrance.

"Hey, guys," he said. "I heard about- wow. Are you okay?"

"Wonderful," Link replied. "Though gaming marathons are quickly becoming one of my least favourite pastimes."

"You guys did _not_ have a marathon on a Sunday night," Fledge exclaimed, throwing his hands up. "Really?"

"Not just Sunday," Pipit informed him, still sounding proud. "A whole forty eight hours."

Fledge shook his head in disapproval. "Couldn't save it for our Halloween break?"

Link and Pipit just shrugged. They scowled when the bell announced the start of the first class, forcing themselves to follow Fledge to Howell's classroom.

"When you think about it for long enough," Horwell said to them, "you begin to realize that everything around you is a work of art. There's ugliness and beauty in everything, in people too. So today, I want you to take out a sheet of paper and write your name on it. We're going to pass the sheets around to everyone in the class. Each person has to write something about what makes the other person a work of art."

Link picked up his pen and wrote his name in the middle of the plain sheet Horwell handed him. Pipit did the same, so clumsy in his weariness that he almost missed the page. Link passed his sheet to Fledge, who was sitting in front of them with Keet. Pipit handed his over and they received the other two boys' in return.

Link looked down at Fledge's name, tapping his pen against his desk while he glanced up at his shy friend. After a moment, he grinned, and wrote 'rosy cheeks' as neatly as he could. He slid the page over to Pipit, who gave Link the one he'd been writing on.

Keet… 'Awesome hair.'

Kina… 'Pretty eyes.'

Pipit… 'Neat freckles!'

When he got Zelda's sheet, he blanked, embarrassed. His pen twirling between two fingers, he tried to think of something that wouldn't sound too weird. Not that Zelda would know it was him, but he didn't want her to be freaked out or anything.

So he simply wrote, 'Lovely hair; very versatile.'

As soon as he passed it to Fledge, he was crushed by his embarrassment and took the next sheet with flaming cheeks. When he looked down at the name of the student, he gritted his teeth.

Ghirahim's neat handwriting decorated the centre of the sheet, and comments from other students were scattered around it. Link looked to see what other people had written, his eyes breezing over things like 'nice eyes' or 'cool hair'. He chewed at the top of his pen as he thought, then grinned.

'How childish you look when things don't go your way.'

Satisfied, he passed the sheet on and sat back, having written on everyone's sheets. After a few minutes of waiting, his sheet was given back to him. He scanned the page, reading what everyone had said about him.

"Apparently a lot of people like my eyes," Link laughed, and Pipit grinned at him.

"I've got neat freckles?" Pipit asked, his tone laced with sarcasm. "_Who_ would have written such a thing?"

"I don't know," Link replied, fighting back a grin. "But, you should definitely be grateful for that compliment."

Pipit shook his head, rueful. Link returned his attention to his own list of compliments. Great hair, lovely smile… and then…

Link blinked, frowning, and read it again. 'Looks good when he's begging for me to leave him alone.'

And then he recognized the elegant handwriting. He scowled, resisting the urge to crumple up the page and throw it in the bin. Instead, he looked over his shoulder to where Ghirahim lounged in his spot at the back of the room.

The pale teen noticed Link and smiled his half-smile, shaking his head slowly as his finger tapped where Link's observation must have been written. Link glared back, gesturing to his own sheet. Ghirahim poked out his tongue, eyes gleaming with delight. It was Link's turn to shake his head, turning back to scowl at the 'compliment' he'd received.

"I hope you all benefitted from this," Horwell said cheerfully, and Link made himself return the smile the teacher offered. "I'd like to think it helped some of you realize how beautiful everyone around you is, all in very unique ways."

Link walked with Fledge and Pipit to Owlan's laboratory, laughing over some of the things people had written about them.

"Someone wrote that my neck is shaped really gracefully…" Fledge told them, looking both bewildered and delighted as he read the list. "Rosy cheeks? This is _really_ weird."

Link chuckled to himself quietly, pushing open Owlan's door and letting Fledge and Pipit walk in ahead of him. As he was about to step inside, Ghirahim brushed past him, throwing Link a false expression of gratitude.

"_So_ polite," he grinned, moving gracefully toward his seat. Link followed him reluctantly, frustrated.

Link dropped onto his seat and let his head rest on his hand, his eyes closing almost immediately. Ghirahim smiled contentedly as he unpacked his things and laid them out in front of him as per usual. When he was finished, he turned his head to look at Link with something resembling sympathy.

"You really _are_ tired today," he said. "What to do with you?"

Link did his best to ignore him, allowing himself to slouch in his seat and rest his head on his arm. But of course, Ghirahim wasn't going to stop talking any time soon.

"We look kind of similar, you know," he remarked, laughing when he saw Link's jaw clenching. "Your skin's nearly as pale as mine, and you've got purple under your eyes now, too."

Link didn't open his eyes when he spoke, mostly because he didn't want to see how smug Ghirahim appeared to be feeling.

"What's up with that anyway?" he asked. "Do you just not sleep?"

Ghirahim frowned, and didn't answer Link's question. Silent, he focused his attention on Owlan, who had just come bustling in.

"Hello, everyone!" he said happily. "Today, we'll be talking about ionic and covalent bonding."

Ghirahim didn't say or do anything to indicate that he was pleased about the choice of topic, choosing to address Link once more. Link blinked himself out of his daydream, still glaring at Ghirahim despite a yawn that threatened to send him off to sleep once more. Ghirahim made a noise of disapproval, his chin resting on one fist.

"This won't do at all," he said. "It's a wonder you even made it to this class, considering the state you're in."

"What do you care?" Link muttered.

"If you plan on struggling through the day, how do you expect to have any fun at lunch time? Judging by the way you look now, you'll fall asleep with your face in your pasta."

"Oh," Link mumbled. "I forgot about that. You know, while I was busy being really creeped out by what you wrote about me."

"Well, that's plain _rude_. It was a compliment."

"Whatever."

"You're really not very much fun when you're so tired," Ghirahim said, inspecting his gloves. Owlan droned on about negatively charged atoms and electrons and all sorts of things, a smile on his face the whole time. Ghirahim watched the teacher for a minute before his expression turned gleeful. Link could practically see the light bulb over his head.

"Why don't you go to sleep?" Ghirahim suggested. "I'll pile up my books in front of you, so Owlan won't notice a thing. The old fool is half-blind anyway."

Link gave Ghirahim an incredulous look as the pale teen placed his things on top of Link's making a sort of mound.

"What? How am I supposed to work and sleep at the same time?"

"I'll do it for you," Ghirahim offered, grinning widely. "I know all about atomic bonding anyway, so I'll write down the notes for you."

Link's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why are you doing this?"

Ghirahim shrugged one shoulder. "Why not?"

"On Friday evening you nearly _broke my jaw_. And now you want to do my classwork for me. I think I have a reason to be a little doubtful about all of this."

"You know what you are?" Ghirahim demanded, almost pouting. "Ungrateful. Give me your notebook and go to sleep."

It was such a strange order that Link couldn't help a dry laugh escaping him. Ghirahim beckoned impatiently with his hand, and Link sighed, unable to understand the other's motives. He handed over his notebook with a shake of his head. Ghirahim flicked it open to a blank page, pen ready to start writing. But he didn't, just sat staring at Link with a small smile.

"Would you quit looking at me like that?" Link asked.

"I will when you fall asleep," Ghirahim replied. "So _hurry up_."

Link glowered at him, making himself return to his comfortable position as he'd done before. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, already feeling himself drifting off.

"This is ridiculous," he whispered, following it up with a yawn.

The last thing he heard was Ghirahim's soft reply.

"I know."

* * *

"Rise and shine," Ghirahim's voice greeted him. He felt a finger prodding his shoulder relentlessly, and grunted in response. Sitting up in his seat, he stretched his arms over his head and did nothing to stop a massive yawn. The rest of the students were making their way to the door, Owlan waving them off.

"Thanks," he sighed, still managing to sound sarcastic. "Those forty minutes have filled me with _so_ much energy."

Ghirahim's expression was bemused, but Link caught a hint of a smile as he simply said, "You're welcome."

Link got up, stretched again, and picked up his bag. He glanced down at the desk and his eyes fell on his notebook. When he saw what was on the page, his fists clenched tightly by his sides. Disbelieving, he snatched it up and spun on his heel to shove it in front of Ghirahim.

"What the hell?" he demanded. "You said you were writing out notes for me!"

Thankfully, Owlan had already left, so he didn't have to hear Link shouting. Pipit was watching, astounded, from his own seat. Ghirahim actually looked a little sheepish, his eyes roaming the page Link held up.

"The notes are on another page," he told Link. "_That_, however, was merely the result of boredom."

Link made a noise of irritation, turning the notebook around so he could take another look. He'd definitely seen what he thought. Sketched out in pencil, Ghirahim had drawn Link while he slept. Again, Link couldn't help but admire the fine details, everything from the way some strands of hair fell in front of his face, the slight parting of his lips. The bags under his eyes were shaded in darker, smudged slightly.

"Do you like it?" Ghirahim asked, smirking. "You seem to be in a state of shock."

"Do you know how _creepy_ that is?" Link retorted. Ghirahim shrugged again, scooping up his own books and picking up his bag. He gave Link a mocking wave before he strode out of the classroom, humming as he went.

Link huffed an impatient breath through his nose, stuffing the notebook into his bag and picking it up. He barely even noticed Pipit until he felt him close by.

"That was weird," his friend observed. "What did he do that was so creepy?"

"Nothing," Link said curtly, and Pipit raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Um, okay."

Link ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I'm still really tired. Puts me in a bad mood."

Pipit still looked wary, but he managed to smile and wave it off. "No worries. Let's just get to History. Maybe we really _will_ fall asleep."

Link laughed, but it was half-hearted. He was too occupied with trying to make sense of Ghirahim's behaviour. Supposedly, Link was the fickle one, but Ghirahim seemed to contradict himself with that statement. Sick and tired of everything, Link just towed himself alongside Pipit until they reached Gaepora's classroom. On the way he in, he gave Pipit a fake glare.

"No more marathons."

**A/N: There you go! Hopefully you enjoyed that! Remember to tell me what you think!**


	9. Perfect Little Wreck

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Here is the next chapter! I'm not updating on my usual day, I know. Exams are a pain. But here's hoping you'll like this chapter! By the way I fail at writing drama.**

**A thousand thanks to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading!**

"You two must really like video games, then," Zelda observed. Link had just confessed the details of his bad gaming habits, which Pipit was mostly to blame for. Link didn't think he would be half as addicted –or half as good at- those games, if not for his friend encouraging him to play them.

"A little," he agreed, smiling lazily. Zelda raised an eyebrow.

"More than a _little_, I think."

Link laughed. "Alright. We're full-on addicts."

Zelda shook her head in feigned disapproval, glancing to the door when Groose sauntered in, making a beeline for where Zelda sat. Zelda just rolled her eyes as he approached, glancing at Link with a small smile.

"This has been going on for the past two years," she told Link. "He's ridiculous."

Groose stood in all his bulky glory with his arms folded across his torso, smirking confidently while Zelda gave him a bemused look in return. It didn't faze him at all.

"Hey, Zelda," he greeted her. "You're looking _stunning_ as usual. Did you get your hair done or something?"

"Nope," Zelda replied. "Same way it always is."

Whether or not Groose was offended, Link would never know, because the huge teen spotted him sitting silent and leered down at him.

"Hanging out with that scatterbrain, Zelda?" Groose asked. "The same guy who fell asleep in Science today?"

Link glared up at him in distaste. He really didn't think he'd ever come to like Groose.

"Do you really need to talk about him like that?" Zelda asked, sounding extremely irritated. Link didn't know if Groose heard her or not. He just kept talking, flicking his styled pompadour in an arrogant manner.

"So there's this party on Saturday night," he began. "Awesome music, a really neat club. I'll drive you there if you want me to. What do you say, Zellie?"

"No thanks," Zelda said with a smile that wasn't exactly cheerful. "And please, call me Zelda."

Gaepora chose to enter just then, his stern gaze falling on Groose. Link swore he saw flames in the Headmaster's eyes.

"If you would be so accommodating as to _sit down_, Groose, I'd like to start the class," he said in his gruff voice.

"Well, that cuts this conversation short," Zelda said to Groose, flicking open her History textbook before throwing a false smile at her admirer. Groose didn't seem to realise it was a fake, grinning back before he made his way to his seat under the watchful eye of Gaepora.

Link opened his book too, suppressing a moan when he found a whole two pages on how people in the Bronze Age lived out their mundane lives.

"Oh, man," he moaned. "I _hate_ the Bronze Age."

"The people in that time didn't have video games, and they got on just fine," Zelda said with a smug expression. Link just smiled back, rolling his eyes.

"So that's why they turned to their pastime of fighting with other locals?"

"… Okay, point."

It turned out Gaepora managed to make the lesson interesting, considering Link's high standards when it came to History. The Headmaster had actually brought supplies from Horwell's art classroom and let them build houses in the style of those made in the Bronze Age, and they spent the class perfecting them.

"Does Groose always act like that around you?" Link asked Zelda as they worked, sticking a leaf onto the framework of his curved roof.

"Since the first day he laid eyes on me," Zelda said, weaving pieces of cardboard neatly as she spoke. "He has a little bit of an obsession with me, I think. And he's never really bothered keeping it to himself." she winked, grinning at him.

Link just laughed, and let her work in peace.

Most of the Bronze Age houses turned out very well. Zelda's was decorated with tiny swirls done in black paint and small green leaves. Link's was going quite well until, in a moment of desperate exhaustion, he let himself fall asleep on top of his small sculpture and destroyed it with the side of his head. He woke up with a startled cry, paint smeared on one side of his face and bits of leaves and cardboard stuck in his hair. It took quite a while for Zelda to stop laughing, but Link enjoyed seeing her so happy.

The bell rang for lunch and Link's hair was still being combed for tiny pieces of wood and felt. Zelda worked through the strands with almost no effort, picking out little fragments of debris. Link blushed the whole time, and by the time she'd finished, his cheeks felt like they were on fire.

"Thanks," he mumbled, one hand scratching lightly at the back of his neck.

"No problem!" Zelda replied, looking delighted. However, it didn't take long for her expression to turn to one of concern. Link waited in trepidation, glancing worriedly at the clock. He had ten minutes. Wait a second; he wasn't going, was he?

"How did you get that bruise, Link?" Zelda asked, but Link was preoccupied by unwanted thoughts cornering him. He was arguing with himself, oblivious to Zelda.

A part of him, the stubborn and resisting part, was hanging onto defiance by a thread, willing himself to be brave enough to just meet Pipit and Fledge and ignore Ghirahim. 'Who cares?' an angry voice asked him, scolding. 'Ghirahim doesn't own you. You're a person, not property.' And Link nearly found himself agreeing whole-heartedly. All it could really result in was Ghirahim throwing a child-like tantrum again. Right?

_"The next time you run off and don't do what I say…"_

'He doesn't mean it,' the same voice insisted. 'He's the same age as you; in no way can he push you around.'

_"I am six months and two days older-"_

'Oh, come on! For heaven's sake, just sit with Pipit like you're supposed to!'

"Link?" Zelda looked utterly perplexed. "Are you okay?"

_"…I'll do more than just punch you."_

Another part of Link, the quiet, sympathetic part of him, joined in the turmoil. It was telling him to do what Ghirahim had requested and meet him. The pain of his jaw seemed to intensify the more he reflected back on Ghirahim's drunken rage from Friday night. Link didn't want to experience that again, and the voice comforted him, quieter and less aggressive than the voice telling him to put up a fight. He listened to what it said even as he tried to focus on Zelda.

"Link! Don't play around; please listen to me!" He could barely feel her hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing for his thoughts to stop circling around in a frenzy.

'You don't have to go through that again,' Link told himself. 'Maybe Ghirahim would be a little more forgiving if you made an effort to understand him... Maybe there's a reason he feels the need to be in charge all the time.'L

"Link, I'm sorry if I offended you or-"

_"A lot more."_

"Shut up!" Link yelled, overloaded. Immediately, he regretted it. The look of hurt mingled with astonishment that appeared on Zelda's usually-cheerful face was heart-breaking. Her hand jerked back as if he had electrocuted her. And, worst of all, when Link made to place a reassuring hand on her arm; she took a step away from him, looking bewildered, and scared.

No one had ever been scared of him before, never. It was such a strange feeling, because he felt like he towered over Zelda and at the same time felt microscopic, as if he was being looked down upon. He found himself wondering if this is how Ghirahim felt every day. He could have kicked himself.

"Zelda," he began, his voice sounding horribly frail. "I didn't mean to shout, I'm just really exhausted and-"

"It's fine," Zelda stopped him short. Barely giving him time to open his mouth to try and apologize, she swept out of the room and didn't take one look back at him. The classroom door slammed loudly behind her and Link was left standing in the midst of the echo it left behind. It seemed to almost mock him.

And despite himself, he still found himself checking the time. He had only three minutes to make up his mind.

"You've got me in a serious mess," Link muttered, not really needing to state who he was referring to.

As if on cue, the door swung open again to reveal not Zelda, but Ghirahim, leaning on one side of the doorway. His hood was pulled up, shadowing most of his face. He smiled at Link, looking at him mockingly. Though he didn't say anything, Link could imagine the taunting remarks he knew the other was holding back, or trying to, anyway.

"I passed the lovely Zelda on my way here," Ghirahim drawled. Link grit his teeth to avoid snapping back at him, looking away.

"She came blazing down the corridor like a tornado. Quite the sight."

Ghirahim took two long strides to get closer to Link, approaching with his arms spread in a gesture of welcoming. But Link wasn't in the mood for theatrics. Ghirahim was grating on his already frayed nerves.

"The poor girl's hair looked absolutely _wild_, and the look in her eyes was simply-"

"Stop it!" Link yelled, successfully cutting Ghirahim off. While he still had the element of surprise to his advantage, Link completely forgot where he was and who he was with. He launched forward with all the energy he had and punched, blinded by his rage.

His left fist connected solidly with Ghirahim's visible eye, earning Link a grunt of annoyance and pain. The next punch hit Ghirahim's navel, knocking the wind out of him, and sent the two of them stumbling back from the sheer force.

Ghirahim recovered first, his fingers prodding gently at the skin just underneath his eye. Link noted the way he winced and had to make an effort not to smile in satisfaction.

Ghirahim took a deep breath, never looking away from Link. After a moment, he made a 'hmph' sound in the back of his throat, removing his hands and letting them dangle by his sides, his long fingers curling and uncurling every few seconds.

"It's been… a while since someone… punched me in the face," he remarked between breaths. Even while he was still fighting for air he managed to sound casual. "That was... a little low of you."

Link stared back in disbelief, his lips parted slightly and one eyebrow raised. "A little low? A little _low_? You have absolutely no right to say that! How can you still defend yourself?"

Ghirahim shrugged. "I consider standing up for yourself to be quite a vital part of human nature. Without it, where would anyone be?"

"Oh, don't start your rambling," Link spat. "Now Zelda probably hates me, and it's because of you!"

"What a pity," Ghirahim sneered. "I don't know what it is you see in her anyway."

"She's a good person," Link said. "She looks out for other people. Zelda's cheerful, funny and a great friend. There's nothing bad to say about her."

"She's pretty," Ghirahim said, his expression almost solemn. "That's where it stops. Zelda is popular because she is of importance; her father is the big boss, after all. She's used to being in a position of authority. Things workout for her, and people admire that about her because people love perfection. But above all, she's _desirable_."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Link muttered. "Zelda is a wonderful person."

"_I _don't know what I'm talking about?" Ghirahim asked, incredulous. "In case you haven't realised, I've been here for two years, long before you arrived. Zelda isn't as divine as you make her out to be. I've seen her hurt people."

"Really?" Link asked, sceptical. "And who would that be?"

"Where do I begin?" Ghirahim spread his arms. "There's always Groose."

"Groose? He's always flirting with Zelda and freaking her out."

"And why does she let it continue?" Ghirahim countered. "She hasn't said anything other than 'Oh, be quiet' or 'Thanks for the compliment.' Do you think it's because she's such a _wonderful_ person? Or is she leading him on? Maybe Zelda likes the attention. She's able to smile and have at least ten people wanting that smile to be directed at them. Zelda's been wrapping boys around her finger since she came here. Just because I'm the only one who's noticed doesn't mean it isn't true. It's no wonder she lets Groose try and try to catch her attention. Considering how bad you've been at charming her, I'm not all that surprised."

Link stared at him with raised eyebrows. "Are you _serious_?"

"You know, I haven't done anything directly to harm your precious little friend," Ghirahim told him. "I might tease her a bit, but I've never laid a finger on her. Even before you arrived, I never touched her. I wouldn't touch a girl if she didn't want me to."

"But you don't have the same problem with guys. How noble."

"Why, thank you." Ghirahim's arrogance was driving Link crazy. "There's a belief that men were made solely for the purpose of protecting women because they are wise and invaluable. I like that belief, and though it may not apply to everyone, I like to live it out as best as I can. You're quite the hero yourself, you know, getting along so well with everyone you come across."

"And you can't let me just keep going that way?" Link asked, nearly pleaded. He was far too tired to be having this conversation, too vacant to think of responses.

"Of course not," Ghirahim replied, a frown in place. "That's not really what I'm known for."

Link scoffed. "Don't you care for _anyone_?"

Ghirahim's expression blanked completely and he stared at Link with eyes that looked wounded.

"Do you think I don't care about people?" he asked softly.

"I know you don't," Link replied, trying to sound as firm as he could, fuelled by his anger. "You treat people like they're objects."

"You think I don't care," Ghirahim said, shaking his head and laughing dryly before his lips thinned. "You think the teenager who saved Rynae from falling into a ditch _doesn't care_? Can you honestly say that the person who helped Ardaia home when he was so drunk and so miserable he couldn't bring himself to walk, _doesn't care_? I suppose the student who stayed up all night helping a certain Science teacher correct a set of tenth-grader exams doesn't care either?"

Link stood speechless as Ghirahim fixed him with a steely glare. He couldn't bring himself to respond, and he didn't think he really knew what he would say that would be appropriate. After a moment, he swallowed and voiced his next question.

"Then… Why do you hurt people?"

Ghirahim's smile was strained. "You're adorable when you're puzzled and confused like this. Even cuter when you're fighting just to keep your eyes open."

"Answer my question," Link ordered. "Why do you hurt people like this?"

Ghirahim actually grinned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I can practically feel anger rolling off of you. It's fascinating."

Link lost it completely, banging a fist against the nearest desk to keep himself from going after Ghirahim again. "_Why_ do you hurt people?!"

"Because _people_ hurt _me_!" Ghirahim shouted back. Almost instantly, his mouth snapped shut, lips pressed tightly together. His hands were balled into fists, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

Link's fist unclenched and dropped to his side. He watched, his blue eyes wide, as Ghirahim fought to maintain any composure he had left. And it didn't look like a lot was left, either.

Link had never seen someone look so defeated. He'd seen people angry, yes, seen them upset. But this was different somehow. It was like a downward spiral in the space of about three minutes. Link didn't know whether Ghirahim was being genuine, or if it was an elaborate act. And even though Link was filled with anger, he let himself down by feeling a pang of sympathy for the same person who had treated him like dirt and not cared.

"What… What do you mean?" Link asked, speaking slowly. Ghirahim looked ready to lash out at anyone that disturbed him. He glared at Link, his eyes filled with contempt. His breaths were shallow, almost gasps. It was like something had been torn away from him, and the way his gloved hands were secured around his middle like a lock only added to that impression.

"Nothing," said Ghirahim, his eyes darting away before returning to Link.

"Who hurt you?" Link inquired, honestly curious. "Why?"

"Stop asking questions," Ghirahim ordered, quietly. Link knew he was treading on dangerous territory but he persisted.

"Tell me who it was.

"People!" Ghirahim snapped. "It's none of your business. Do you think I'd tell my problems to someone I've only known for a week? I don't think so. As lovely as you are, Link, I don't quite trust you yet. Please, _stop_ _talking to me!_"

Link tried not to be offended by Ghirahim's statement about not trusting him, hard as it was. Because he'd always been trustworthy; Pipit had told him everything, Mallara spoke openly of matters that she wouldn't dare mention to her friends. He'd always been trusted by people.

"Do Ardaia and Rynae know?" Link asked. He was going to get some sort of answer, somehow.

"I said..!" Ghirahim stopped himself, his eyes darting over Link's shoulder to the back corner of the room. He ignored Link's question completely. His usually-serene eyes were panicked and alarmed. Link turned to see what it was that had him so worried.

Nothing, just the desk sitting at the back of the classroom, a spread sheet about the Reformation hanging on the wall next to it. There was nothing out of the ordinary, but it seemed Ghirahim was looking at something invisible to all but himself.

"What's wrong?" Link questioned him, and Ghirahim blinked a few times, shaking his head slightly.

"Nothing." When Ghirahim said it, his tone was venomous. "Absolutely _nothing_."

"Can't you tell me anything?" Link was irritated by Ghirahim's mysterious behaviour. He hated people who kept all their secrets to themselves. He respected people's privacy, but keeping everything in the dark was just irritating.

He watched in confusion as Ghirahim reached into his pockets, searching with his fingers, his eyebrows drawn in. Finally he produced a small… sweet? No, a pill, tiny and white and circular. Ghirahim held it between two fingers before downing it dry.

"What are you doing?" Link asked, genuinely confused by Ghirahim's behaviour in the past few minutes.

"Medication," was all Ghirahim muttered. He took a deep breath, and looked up at Link again. "Don't bother joining us today. I'll see you around."

He turned his back to Link and started walking to the door. Link made to go after him but Ghirahim spun, grabbed his shoulder and pushed Link back against the nearest desk.

"I said, 'Don't bother joining us,'" he stated, his tone so calm it was off-putting. His grip tightened, and Link suppressed a cry of pain. Ghirahim was unnaturally strong. "I've been too soft lately. Remember the first day I told you to learn your place?"

Link nodded. He certainly hadn't forgotten their first encounter.

"I meant it back then, and I mean it now. Your friends are most definitely not what I'd call clever, but if they advised you against me, it's probably based on past experience. Now, I'm going to leave. You wait here for five minutes and no less. Then you can leave. I don't care what you tell your friends, as long as I'm not mentioned. Understand?"

Another nod. The look in Ghirahim's eyes was animalistic, and it scared Link beyond his wits. Ghirahim smiled.

"You're a perfect little _wreck_," he whispered, before he released Link's shoulder and strode toward to the door. Like Zelda, he slammed the door and left Link to himself.

Running a hand through his hair, Link let go of a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. Shivers jolted up and down his spine, making his fingertips shake even when he tried to steady himself with some deep breaths.

He actually waited the five minutes, mulling over what Ghirahim might be doing and how Zelda might be feeling, or Pipit and Fledge. Pacing back and forth to try and order his thoughts, he thought hard to himself.

When the five minutes had passed, he'd decided to apologise to Zelda for indirectly insulting her. He walked the empty corridors until he reached the cafeteria, scanning for Pipit and Fledge. He didn't want to run straight into Zelda and avoid making the situation worse than it was. He needed advice.

He found them sitting in their usual spot, and sat down next to Pipit, who passed him a tinfoil container filled with pasta. His friend looked concerned for him, and Fledge watched him warily.

"Man, what's going on?" Pipit asked. "Zelda came in here looking devastated. She just grabbed Karane and left us sitting here. Did something happen?"

"It's a long story," Link told him.

"We've got time," Pipit insisted. Link sighed.

"Look, I was just really tired and I wasn't thinking straight," Link said. "It's my fault Zelda's that way; I yelled at her to shut up. No wonder she's in a terrible state."

"Oh, jeez," Pipit moaned. "Really? Why would you shout at her?"

"I don't know!" Link snapped. Fledge made a sort of surprised squeak, and Pipit stared at Link as if he'd never seen him before. Link stared back in despair.

"I didn't mean that, Pipit," he apologised. "Really, I didn't. I just want to go asleep; I hate being so tired."

"You're never this cranky," Pipit accused him. "I've lived with you for six years. I know you inside and out. If _anyone_ knows you, it's me. You've been acting like a different person since we came here, Link. If something's on your mind, would you please just tell us?"

Link fiddled with his plastic fork, not meeting Pipit's eye. "I'd tell you if something was happening, Pipit. I swear I'm fine. I know I've been in a bad mood lately but I really am fine. Aside from the whole Zelda thing, of course."

"Has Ghirahim been bothering you?" Fledge asked shyly. "I know you ended up sitting with him in Science."

Link's stomach did a flip and he nearly choked on his lunch. "What? No. Ghirahim's just weird."

"Are you sure?" Fledge pressed on. "I've seen it happen a lot of times, Link. I know the signs. Ghirahim can get to you if you're not careful about it."

"Have you ever been bothered by him?" Link asked. Fledge seemed like he'd be the type of target most people like Ghirahim, or Groose, would aim for. But Fledge shook his head.

"No," he said. "I'm not interesting enough."

Pipit raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"It's kind of difficult to explain," Fledge began. "Ghirahim only bothers students he finds unique or appealing. Someone with an interesting background, or someone who makes themselves known to him. Anyone who catches his attention. I've never really been all that much, so I managed to steer clear of him. Hopefully it'll continue that way."

Link made a noise of surprise. So he was interesting, in Ghirahim's eyes. He wondered what the other saw in him. And then scolded himself mentally for thinking about it. He was sure he was already blushing.

"If you haven't been picked on by him, how can you tell when other people have?" Pipit asked.

"There are countless people I could tell you about," Fledge said. "And all of them end up the same. Wasters. Ghirahim drinks, and everyone knows it. He and Ardaia and Rynae all meet up somewhere and drink until they can barely keep themselves standing up. And Ghirahim invites other people to come and join in the fun."

"How does he make them do it?" Link asked quietly.

"I'm not sure, exactly," Fledge replied. "You can't really deny that he has a certain way with words. He lures people in, I think. Or maybe he just bosses them around, I don't know. Maybe it depends on who it is. He has a powerful voice. Even teachers listen to him."

"A powerful voice?" Pipit frowned, pausing in the act of chewing his food.

"He's able to influence people," Fledge clarified. "I bet half the people he's messed with didn't initially want to drink all that wine. But eventually, it becomes almost like a routine. It's scary to watch. It all takes about a month, I'd say, for someone to become completely lost."

"How many people?" Pipit wondered aloud.

"Who really knows?" Fledge asked. "I've seen so much of it in the past three years I just stopped counting. Never saw him with a girl, though, that I'm sure of."

So that was true too, Ghirahim's belief about not harming women. Link wondered why it didn't apply to males, though.

"Why does Ghirahim do it?" Link asked. "What does he get out of it?"

"Nobody knows. People think there's something wrong with him. Like, mentally."

"What?" Link demanded. "He has a mental illness?" Ghirahim might be an alcoholic, but Link didn't think he had a serious condition.

"I'm not saying it's true," Fledge said quickly. "But I remember seeing him in Owlan's class once, swallowing a pill, I think."

Link recalled Ghirahim taking what could only be the same pill not ten minutes ago. He nodded, encouraging Fledge to keep on.

"Sometimes he kind of has… _episodes_; I suppose that's what you'd call them. Just spacing out sometimes, or talking to himself. Could be just him, though. He was always a little crazy, I think everyone knew that when he first came here though."

"Parrow told us that he's really smart," Pipit said. "If that's true, why does he waste all his time drinking?"

"I don't think he wastes all of his time," Fledge said slowly. "He wins the academic award every year for getting straight A's. I think it annoys Zelda, but he's never been caught cheating or anything. My guess is that he keeps his drinking habits restricted to certain times and studies every other spare moment he gets."

"Do any of the teachers like him?" Link asked, thinking back on what Ghirahim had said about helping Owlan.

"I think he makes Horwell a little uncomfortable," Fledge said. "But he loves Ghirahim's drawings. Parrow tries to make conversation with him but I haven't seen it working before. I think the only teacher who's ever openly praised him would be Owlan. Owlan is really passionate about Science, and Ghirahim must like it too. I've often seen him hang back after the class to talk with the old man."

So Ghirahim's claim about helping Owlan must have been at least partly true. Link tugged at a strand of his hair, trying to think what Ghirahim's problem could really be.

Pipit shook his head. "I can't figure that guy out."

Fledge shrugged. "At least you're not the only one."

"Someone will figure him out," Link said. "Soon enough, someone will."

And Link swore that it was going to be him.

**A/N: There you go! Tell me what you thought!**


	10. Attracting Attention

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! We're here at Chapter Ten, which is crazy! I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter! This is where the Ghiralink will really begin, I guess.**

**Also, an author on this site is writing a sort of spin-off for this story! Go to fabdemonkinglink's profile to check it out!**

**And a million thanks to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading this monster of a chapter!**

"Come on, you've got to apologise," Pipit urged his friend. Link breathed out through his nose, walking alongside Pipit as they made their way to their base classroom. It was their first guess as to where Zelda might have gone. Link seriously hoped they were wrong.

"What am I supposed to even say?" Link asked. "'Hey, sorry I yelled at you'. Then she'll ask why I shouted at her."

"And why _did_ you?"

Link blanked for a moment before he said, "I've told you a thousand times; I was tired and I wasn't thinking straight."

Pipit made a doubtful noise, his expression sceptical. "I see. Well she can't get too mad over that."

He pushed the door of the classroom open and Link felt his stomach drop when he spotted Zelda, sitting with Karane. The red-haired girl caught Link's eye and gave him a worried look. Link stared back helplessly until Pipit nudged him with his elbow.

"Just go over and apologise," he said. "You're making a big fuss over nothing."

Link rolled his eyes and forced himself to walk in Zelda's direction, stopping when he came to her desk. Karane watched anxiously as Zelda looked up at Link with a mixture of anxiety and hope. Pipit stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.

"Zelda," Link began. "I'm really sorry I shouted at you earlier."

She was watching him carefully, expectant. Link took another quick breath before he continued.

"I've been a little on edge since I came to this school, I'll be honest. Everything –and everyone- it's all so different, and I guess I'm still adjusting. Yesterday, that wasn't who I am, really. I had a lot on my mind."

The white lies he was telling her were somewhat true, but made him feel awful. Why wasn't he telling her about Ghirahim? Why hadn't he told anyone? Link hated the influence the teen had over him, even when he wasn't in the room. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to bring Ghirahim up. He told himself it was because he didn't want his friends being picked on in his place.

"So, I understand if you're upset with me," he said. "I'd just… I guess I'd prefer it if you weren't."

Zelda gave him a small smile, and Link breathed out a sigh of relief as she stood up and took his hand in hers.

"It's okay," she told him. "I was the one who overreacted, anyway."

Link raised his eyebrows. "No, really-"

"Would you two lovebirds give it a rest?" Karane interrupted. "We're all friends again, life is great."

Link felt his cheeks warm, and Zelda was fighting to stop a faint red appearing on her own. Her hand slipped out of Link's and she directed a weak glare at Karane.

"Whatever," Link muttered with a small smile. "Let's just get to Jakamar's class."

"Agreed," said Zelda with a smile. She picked up her bag and Karane followed suit, getting up from her seat and spotting Pipit, walking over to talk to him about a baseball game that was showing that night.

"Hey, Link," said Zelda, tapping him lightly on the arm. He turned to smile at her, waiting for what she had to say.

"There's, uh, a new film showing in the cinema this weekend," she told him. "I was just wondering if maybe you'd go and see it with me? If you want to, I mean. I don't know if you'd really like it or-"

"Sounds great," Link grinned. He was so glad he was on good terms with Zelda again. Even though it hadn't been very long since his outburst, he'd felt extremely guilty for upsetting her.

"Oh, good," Zelda laughed. "Does Saturday afternoon suit you?"

"Saturday's perfect," Link said.

They accompanied each other to Jakamar's class, Zelda talking about Les Miserables as they walked.

"Who's your favourite character, Link?" she asked. "Jean Valjean, am I right?"

Link thought about it, trying to remember what he could of the plotline. "I'm not sure. I did like Marius but he's kind of an idiot sometimes. I feel kind of bad for Éponine, I guess."

"Yeah, she has a really rough time. I like the revolutionary group."

"I kind of like Javert," said Link, stuffing his hands into his pockets. Zelda made a noise of surprise.

"The police officer who's chasing Valjean? I thought he was the villain."

"I guess he is," said Link. "But, he's interesting. Happens a lot in video games, actually. The villain sometimes has a more intriguing background than the hero."

"Can you redirect _any_ conversation to the topic of video games?" Zelda asked, grinning.

Link just shrugged, smiling back at her. "I guess so."

She laughed at that, combing her fingers through her hair.

"Link, I know you said there's a lot on your mind. But if you ever want to talk about it..."

"Thanks, Zelda."

"No problem at all!"

Pipit was quick to start questioning Link as soon as he sat down, despite Link's attempts to get him to focus on Les Miserables. Link had already told him about the date and time, but it seemed that wasn't enough.

"What's the film?" he whispered, as Jakamar detailed the state of the French government in the 1820s.

"She didn't say," Link replied. "Are you done now?"

"Better hope it isn't some sappy romance film," Pipit said, looking as if he wouldn't mind if the film was just that.

"Yeah," Link muttered. "Any plans with Karane soon?"

Pipit flicked over to the next page of the book, his blue eyes scanning the page, uninterested, before he answered.

"We're going to get something to eat after school tomorrow" he said. "Maybe the Lumpy Pumpkin."

Link blinked at him. "Because you can suddenly afford to go there."

"I have money saved that I can use," Pipit defended. "It's not _that_ expensive."

"I thought we were saving for a laptop," Link reminded him.

"Small sacrifices can be made. I'm sure you'll need to take out some money for your date too."

"It's _not_ a date," Link told him. "We're just hanging out."

"Keep telling yourself that," Pipit laughed, ignoring the warning look Jakamar was giving him.

* * *

"… So to find the value of x, we replace it with negative one and multiply by two," Fi explained, her hand flying across the board as she wrote out an equation that made no sense to the students seated in front of her.

Link stared at his sheet in confusion. His attempt to keep up with what Fi was saying proved to be futile. The mess on the page looked nothing like it was supposed to, and when he glanced over at what Pipit had taken in, it wasn't much of an improvement.

"We're going to fail," Pipit stated, not sounding upset at all. "You might get lucky and pass but I think we can all agree that Maths is not for me."

"At least we know you'll be an international sports-star," Link assured him. "You can always fall back on that."

"I suppose so," Pipit grinned, setting down his pen. "In that case, I'm done writing equations down. I _hate_ Tuesdays."

The bell rung to announce the end of the class, and Fi was still solving the last equations when the students had left to go to their crafts class.

Horwell let them have another class to themselves where they were free to draw whatever they wanted to. The teacher was actually having a heated phone conversation with a company that were supposed to have delivered air-drying clay to the school over a week ago, so he didn't have a lot of time to dedicate to his students.

Pipit was aimlessly painting blue and yellow swirls all over his sheet, slouching so much that Link was sure his face would end up in the paint. Link made a point of shaking him now and then to get him to straighten up, something Pipit was very grateful for.

Link was making a brave effort trying to paint Mario after coming short of any good ideas. The plump man was surprisingly difficult to portray, and his moustache was proving to be quite a problem. Nevertheless, Link liked it well enough.

As per usual, the paintings were hung up, and the students were given a few minutes to admire them. Pipit was quite approving of Link's tribute to his favourite game series, and Link complimented Pipit's own work of art. However, he quickly found himself scanning the paintings for one particular piece. And he found it pretty quickly.

Ghirahim, too, was looking up at his newest creation with a fond expression. Link couldn't help but feel proud when he saw that the area around Ghirahim's visible eye looked a little swollen. He returned his attention to the painting, glaring at it with contempt, furious with just how accurate the painting was.

He was painted from behind this time, his paintbrush in hand and his hair ruffled. Every strand was drawn in with astonishing precision, some in darker shades and some in lighter. There were even flecks of blue and red paint on his green sleeves, and every fold was drawn in exactly as it had been. Link hated the perfection of it all.

Ghirahim noticed him watching and beamed, delighted. Link glowered at him and turned his back, refusing to acknowledge the other. He returned to Pipit's side and didn't look at Ghirahim for the rest of the class.

Unfortunately, that was only a mere few minutes before the bell rang again. Link grabbed his bag from under the desk and tossed Pipit's to him, receiving a grunt as form of thanks. He joined the throng of students on their way out and stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He didn't need to think to know who it was.

"Great job freaking me out again," Link complimented him, his voice laced with sarcasm.

"Thank you," Ghirahim replied, completely ignorant. "It's nice to know that my efforts are worth it."

Link rolled his eyes, attempting to walk away before Ghirahim could get another word in, but he was turned around by the other teen anyway, forced to make eye contact.

"We're going to have a _lot_ of fun today," Ghirahim said with an eager smile. Link glared back stubbornly.

"Whatever it is, it's not going to be fun," he said, shrugging out of Ghirahim's grip and heading for the door.

"I'll see you in fifteen," Ghirahim called.

"Hate you," Link called back. He ignored the questioning looks he received from a group of seventh-graders hanging out in the hallway and Ghirahim's laughter, too.

He found Pipit and Fledge in the cafeteria as always, and joined them in the queue to get their food. Link and Pipit listened to Fledge's tales of different student's encounters with the lunch-lady, Henya, finishing their lunch as they offered their own input.

It ended all too quickly when Link remembered where he had to be one minute from then, getting up and taking his bag with him. Pipit looked at him quizzically.

"Where are you off to now?" he asked. Link glanced around the cafeteria, searching for an excuse.

"Um, I'm just going to ask Zelda about that film we're going to," he said. Pipit smiled wryly.

"Ah, I get it," he said. "All right, I won't disturb you."

"Not what you're thinking," Link told him, already setting off to the other end of the cafeteria. Pipit just laughed, wolf-whistling after him.

Link stepped into the school's main hall and stopped, gritting his teeth. Ghirahim flashed a smile at him from the front door in return.

"What are you up to?" Link asked, walking over and making sure he didn't look at all happy.

Ghirahim shrugged smoothly, his hood falling down onto his shoulders. His white hair shone brilliantly even without any light directed at it. Link unconsciously scrubbed a hand through his own, noting that he needed a shower.

"I'm serving as your escort, of course," the pale teen replied with a thin smile. Link narrowed his eyes.

"You look more tired than _I_ was yesterday," he acknowledged. Ghirahim made a tsk sound, flicking a loose strand of hair out of his face.

"I don't appreciate that comment," he stated. "But it's nice to know you take the time to notice little things."

Link rolled his eyes, stepping past Ghirahim before he came to a halt, glancing up at the grey clouds that loomed over their school and grimacing when the first drops of rain began to fall.

"It's raining," he said.

Ghirahim laughed quietly. "How _observant_ of you."

Link turned to scowl at him. "What I'm saying is that we can't go outside in this weather."

"Really?" Ghirahim asked. "And, why not?"

"Because... Because it's raining! We're going to be soaked."

Ghirahim shook his head, grinning. His arm shifted slightly and with a precise flick of his wrist, he produced a red umbrella, rolled up and compressed. One gloved finger pushed a small button and the umbrella flew open, tall and wide.

It was Link's turn to shake his head. He frowned at the diamond pattern on the inside, exactly the same as the one on the inside of Ghirahim's hoodie.

"What's with you and diamonds?" he asked as Ghirahim brushed past him, lifting the umbrella over his head. He glanced at Link over his shoulder with one eyebrow raised.

"What's not to like?"

Link huffed an impatient breath. "They're great. But you're like, obsessed."

"They tessellate," Ghirahim said, looking away. "They fit together perfectly. Diamonds, squares, straight lines are logical. You can't do anything useful with curves and round things. Straight lines match, they join together and they make things work. I like them."

Link took in the information with raised eyebrows. He genuinely hadn't expected an answer like that one. But when he thought about it, hardly anything Ghirahim said was to be expected.

"Um... Well, okay."

"So articulate," Ghirahim complimented him, his dark eyes gleeful. He waved the umbrella about a little, looking at Link expectantly.

"You said you didn't want to get yourself wet, didn't you?" he asked. He gestured with the umbrella again, and Link sighed.

"Fine," he muttered, stepping under the umbrella while trying to stay as far away from Ghirahim as was possible. The other teen noticed and laughed.

"I'm not _that_ scary, am I?" he asked, batting his eyelashes as if he was entirely innocent. Link shot a glare back at him.

"Not scary," he said. "Just... _crazy_."

"Everyone's crazy," Ghirahim replied simply.

"I'm not sure that's entirely true," said Link, smiling despite himself.

"I know it is," Ghirahim said. "I'm crazy. Ardaia and Rynae are. Even you're crazy."

"How on earth am _I_ crazy?"

"Well for one thing, you came to this dump. For another, you agree to come along to these little gatherings solely to avoid me picking on your little friends."

At that, he paused, and a half-smile formed.

"Or is that not the _only_ reason?"

Immediately, Link was defending himself against the implication.

"Are you kidding me?" he demanded. "Obviously that's the reason! I don't want you anywhere _near_ them. If this is the way to do that, so be it."

Ghirahim's smile just widened. "... Of course."

"It is!" Link insisted. "Do you think I enjoy drinking and getting beaten up?"

"A little bit," Ghirahim said. "Alcohol does that to people. The more you have, the more you want." He winked. "Like _me_."

Link's expression turned to one of disgust. "You cannot be that arrogant."

"You underestimate me," Ghirahim said with a dramatic sigh. "I've been this arrogant since I was born."

"That doesn't surprise me," Link told him. "But I don't know why you're so proud of it."

"It's one of the things that make me, me," Ghirahim said, actually looking content. "Every tiny thing about a person is what shapes them and sets them apart from others. I have just have an abundance of those qualities."

"Oh yeah?" Link said. He'd never seen himself as someone who would stand out. But he remembered what Fledge had said about Ghirahim taking interest in certain people. "What defines me?"

"Oh, plenty," Ghirahim said. "Your ability to defy orders is one."

"What?"

"You don't feel the need to listen to people; you're not someone who takes advice from others unless he has to. You're also quite open. You don't always wait for people to approach you; sometimes you approach them. Like Fledge, on the first day."

Link made a 'humph' sound, unwilling to admit that Ghirahim had a real talent for discovering and explaining unusual things when he wanted to.

"There are more," Ghirahim stated. "But really, I'd probably need more time to talk about it."

"About me?"

"Obviously."

"But I'm ... I'm Link. You barely know me; you said it yourself."

"Link..." Ghirahim spoke quietly, slowly.

Link frowned at him. "What?"

Ghirahim studied him for a long time, to the point where Link began to feel very uncomfortable.

"What is it?" he urged, growing impatient. Ghirahim shook his head.

"Nothing. Your hair looks good today."

"It doesn't- what?"

"That's all you ever say," Ghirahim informed. "You _really_ must make some effort to improve your vocabulary."

"The way I speak is fine," Link retorted.

"Well, when you compare it with the way _I_ speak, there's an obvious contrast."

"Oh, whatever."

"I rest my case."

"I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you."

Ghirahim grinned; the smug expression he wore made Link furious.

However, when they were about to round the last corner, Ghirahim stopped dead, the hand that wasn't holding the umbrella shooting out to grab Link's arm. Link was pulled back sharply, almost thrown against the wall.

"What the hell are you-?"

"Be quiet!" Ghirahim snapped in a hushed tone. Link watched him in the hope of gaining some sort of idea of what was going on. Whatever was happening certainly wasn't normal.

He listened, trying to hear whatever it was Ghirahim had discovered. All he heard was the sound of wine being poured and familiar laughter.

"Someone caught us," Ghirahim breathed, and Link gave him an incredulous look.

"It's Ardaia and Rynae," Link said, irritated but growing a little worried. Was this what Fledge had mentioned? An 'episode'?

Ghirahim whipped around to face him, and Link was taken aback by how wild the look in his eyes was.

"Are you deaf, or just stupid?" he demanded, and Link's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"If I'm so stupid, then let me go and check out whatever's bothering you."

He didn't wait for a response, successfully pulling his arm from Ghirahim's grip. As he turned the corner he heard Ghirahim's frantic hisses demanding that he come right back, but he ignored him.

Ardaia and Rynae sat in their usual position, Ardaia's long strands waving a little in the small breeze while Rynae balanced on his haunches. They were chatting, Ardaia chuckling while Rynae glared at him.

"I'm telling you," Ardaia was saying. "Order of the Phoenix is the worst."

Rynae shook his head in denial. "Did you even _read_ Goblet of Fire?"

"There's just no talking to you," Ardaia concluded.

Rynae was still glaring, but a smile tugged at his lips. "Link is here, so instead of acting like the idiot you are, you might want to follow my example and say 'hi'. Hi, Link."

Link gave him a wave and Ardaia spotted him, brightening.

"Link!" he smiled. "Good to see you. Where's Ghirahim?"

"He's back there," Link pointed over his shoulder. "I think something's wrong."

Rynae raised an eyebrow, looking at Ardaia and receiving a grimace in return. Link watched a flurry of expressions pass between the two before they leaped from their perch and darted around the corner, leaving Link to hurry after them.

"Ghirahim," Ardaia had his arms on Ghirahim's shoulders, trying to get him to focus. "Listen to me."

"They caught us, Ardaia!" Ghirahim insisted. He'd dropped the umbrella onto the ground, uncaring. "I can hear them! Nobody _ever_ came before. Gaepora already knows. What if-?"

"Calm down," Rynae said, gently but firmly. "No one found out, and no one will. It's Ardaia, Link and myself."

Ghirahim blinked, his eyes settling on Ardaia's before flickering to Rynae, and then to Link. After a long moment, Ghirahim shrugged, taking a small step back. His smile was back, expression calm.

"Of course," he said, his tone casual. "Of course it is. You look different."

Link watched in utter bewilderment as Ghirahim picked up the umbrella, snapped his fingers and took Link's forearm, leading him along as he had done on the first day.

Ardaia exchanged a doubtful look with Rynae before they walked side by side to where Link stood watching Ghirahim warily. The paler teen noticed and frowned.

"What has you so troubled?" he asked.

Link fixed him with the best bemused look he could manage. "Well, two minutes ago you were-"

"Lecturing you about your near-primitive way of speaking," Ghirahim cut in. "And now we're about to drink wine and have some fun. _Amazing_." His laugh was delicate.

Link glanced at Rynae, who was now seated on Ghirahim's right. Link had been hoping for some sort of explanation, but Rynae just shook his head and said nothing.

"Here," said Ardaia, straightening himself from where he had been crouched over his rucksack. He held up a bottle of wine that Link could only call crimson in colour.

Ardaia smiled as he hopped onto the dumpster, extending a strong arm toward Link, who took it with a resigned sigh. Ardaia poured out the wine, the exact same amount in all four.

"This'll stain your teeth, Link," he said. "It's a shame the rain stopped; could have cleaned you up a bit."

"No charming smiles for Zelda, then," Ghirahim said. Rynae grinned.

"No smiling for anyone," he said. "You'll look like you took a beating."

Link took the glass and recoiled from the strong scent that accompanied it: bittersweet and alarmingly inviting. Something was definitely wrong if he was looking at it that way. And he knew just by the scent that his mind would be clouded over immediately if he drank it. He set the glass down while Ghirahim stared at him over the rim of his own.

"I'm not thirsty," Link said, almost to himself. Ardaia raised his eyebrows as he took a gulp of his own wine. Ghirahim actually looked offended.

"_Excuse_ me?" he asked softly. Link tried to shift away from him but found Rynae on his other side, looking uncertain.

"I really don't want to drink it," Link tried. "I'm not thirsty."

"Would you like a cigarette, then?" Ghirahim asked, his eyes cold. Link blinked in confusion at the suggestion.

"What? No."

"So drink the wine." Ghirahim's smile left no room for protest, even though Link tried in vain to come up with a defiant statement. Ghirahim picked up the glass and practically shoved it into Link's hand. Link grimaced, staring at the pool of red that shot his own dull reflection back at him. A question came to mind, and he voiced it without thinking.

"What's so great about wine?"

Link tried his best not to laugh at the horrified expression Rynae wore. Ardaia choked on his drink, looking at Link like he had two heads.

"What?!" he spluttered.

"Are you _mad_?" Rynae demanded.

Link just shrugged. "It's not as nice as you guys make it out to be."

Ardaia shook his head. "Preposterous. Wine should be considered one of the wonders of the world!"

"Wine is man's greatest creation," Rynae stated, looking deadly serious.

Link stared at them, perplexed.

"It's a cure," said Ghirahim, swilling his own drink around as he spoke. "A distraction, a medicine. And eventually, an addiction."

"A distraction from what?" Link asked, hesitantly setting his own glass down again and keeping his eyes trained on Ghirahim.

"Life."

Link raised his eyebrows. "... Oh."

Ardaia was looking into his glass, his expression unusually solemn. Rynae took a drink, grey eyes downcast. Ghirahim was watching Link from the corner of his eye, waiting for more.

Link shifted uncomfortably in the silence. A breeze passed by and ruffled his hair, almost like it was encouraging him to speak.

"I didn't mean to pry," he apologised.

"Not a problem," Ghirahim replied immediately. "What good is there in anything if you don't ask questions?"

"Another of life's joys," Rynae said, smiling softly.

"This is far too depressing for a drizzly Tuesday," Ardaia decided. "Doesn't anyone have something _interesting_ to talk about?"

"I most certainly do," Ghirahim said. Link cringed when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "Our Link has never been kissed."

Link gaped at him, disbelieving. How could Ghirahim speak so casually about anything and everything? And about him, too!

"Don't you have any respect for people's privacy? Or personal space, for that matter?"

"You've never been kissed?" Ardaia asked. "_Really_?"

Ghirahim's hand didn't move, his gloved fingers drumming in a steady rhythm, much to Link's discomfort.

"Never," Ghirahim confirmed, and then smirked. "At least, not _properly_."

Link's eyes widened and he felt his cheeks flush. He managed to wriggle away from Ghirahim just enough so his shoulder was free.

"Would you stop it with _my_ problems?" Link demanded. "Who cares, anyway?"

"Well, you're a nice, sensible, caring kind of guy," said Rynae. "It only makes sense that people would want to be in your company."

"And _kiss_ me?"

"Eventually, yeah."

Link just shook his head, staring at Rynae while he waited for a response. But there wasn't much Link could say.

"There's no shame in not having kissed someone," Ardaia declared, waving a nonchalant hand. "I've only ever kissed one person."

"Oh yeah?" Link asked. Either Ardaia didn't pick up on his sarcasm or it went ignored.

"Honest," he said. "But I mean, I've kissed Rynae a lot of times so it should count as-"

"No you _haven't_!" Rynae practically screeched. "Would you stop talking crazy?"

Ghirahim's thin frame shook with laughter as Rynae took a long drink to calm himself. Ardaia was giggling like a child, ecstatic.

"We're straying away from the point," Ghirahim reminded them. "You two can worry about your little love affair later. Right now, we're discussing Link."

"Great," Link muttered.

"Haven't you ever even thought about what it would be like?" Ghirahim asked, and Link gave him a scandalized look.

"What? That is the _last_ thing on my mind."

"Oh?" Ghirahim smiled. "Maybe we should show you what about it is so enjoyable, then."

It didn't take long for Link to catch on to his train of thought, and when he did, he almost knocked over the wine glass sitting next to him in his haste to push himself away. Ghirahim just kept smiling.

"You... Are you seriously-?!"

"I'm deadly serious," Ghirahim assured him. "Why are you so hesitant anyway?"

A million answers came to mind, and Link stumbled over them as he tried to voice them all.

"Because I don't- because I'm not-!"

"Don't want to?" Rynae offered.

"You're not gay?" Ardaia suggested.

"Stop it!" Link snapped at them. "But... Jeez, this is so- I don't _want_ to be kissed by you! This whole conversation is so messed up!"

"I fail to see how," Ghirahim replied. "There's no need to be so childish about all of this."

"I'm not being childish!" Link insisted. "You're just being _weird_!"

"That's my specialty," Ghirahim replied with just a hint of sarcasm. "Drink that wine."

Link glanced down at the glass, picking it up but not making a move to drink from it. Ghirahim raised an eyebrow, not looking the least bit impressed.

"How about this, then? If you can drink all of it in one go, I won't kiss you. But until you _do_..."

Link recoiled when he felt Ghirahim inch closer, holding up the glass as a symbol of surrender and as a way of fending him off.

"I'm drinking it!" he insisted. "Would you just give me one minute?"

With a last glare for Ghirahim, Link braced himself, closing his eyes before he made an attempt at downing the whole thing.

And nearly gagged when the strong taste hit him like a ton of bricks, spitting out what he could onto the ground below. Link felt Rynae shift and move away, but paid him no mind as the bittersweet aftertaste assaulted him. Of all the wine Ardaia could have chosen for that day, it had to be this!

"Well that was nothing at all," Ghirahim remarked. "I'm half-convinced you actually want me to kiss you."

"I don't," Link managed, averting his gaze. Ghirahim laughed excitedly.

"You failed, though, and so I come out on top of our little deal," he said, triumph clear in his voice. "This will be fun."

"No!" Link protested, even as his stomach told him it couldn't take a lot more. "I'll drink the rest of it, here, watch-"

"Wait," Ghirahim cut him off, pushing the glass away from Link's lips and turning to Ardaia. "Give me the bottle."

Ardaia frowned, but passed it over anyway. Link watched in dread as Ghirahim refilled his glass, his dark eyes shining. He handed it to Link with a wide smile.

"We _did_ make a deal," he clarified. "The whole glass, wasn't it? Off you go."

Link took it from him, glaring back stubbornly. He wasn't about to lose this challenge. Ghirahim was not going to steal his first kiss!

With a resigned sigh, Link readied himself and lifted the glass. As he drank, the smell of the drink overwhelmed him, clouding his senses, but he pushed on until there was nothing left, just an empty glass.

"Wow," said Rynae. Link turned to look at him and immediately regretted it. He had to brace a hand against the rim of the dumpster's lid to stop himself going right over.

"Link, are you okay?" Ardaia asked, looking wary. Link had to stop himself from turning to look at him. Even giving a nod in response was excruciating.

"Headache," he whispered, his fingers still gripping the lid tightly. The wine glass had been abandoned, and it had fallen to the ground. Luckily there was nothing more than a crack on its surface.

Ghirahim jumped neatly off of the dumpster and positioned himself so that he stood right in front of Link. He extended one gloved hand and Link stared back at him with a vacant expression.

"I know you're not a fan of being drunk," Ghirahim said, "but one way or another I'll get you back to that school. I need co-operation."

Reluctant, Link took Ghirahim's hand and allowed himself to be pulled down gently and slowly. He landed on the ground with a thud that made his head spin.

"Come along now," Ghirahim encouraged, his voice uncomfortably close.

"See you later, Link," Ardaia called as Ghirahim led Link with a hand on his forearm. "Get well soon!"

Link didn't hear Rynae's sarcastic response to that wish, stumbling along next to Ghirahim while the other teen assessed his condition with a little more condescension than was really necessary.

"It doesn't take an awful lot to make you tipsy, does it?" he asked as they rounded a corner. "One and a half glasses isn't _too_ much."

Link cast his gaze around the school grounds when he felt drops of rain begin to fall again.

"I left the umbrella with Rynae," Ghirahim said blankly. "But if you hurry up we can avoid getting too wet."

"No chance," was all Link could say, glaring through the haze of his vision.

"I thought not. It seems we'll arrive in looking like we took a shower in our clothes. That'll attract some attention."

That was when Link decided to stop listening.

Ghirahim's premonition turned out to be true. By the time Ghirahim had dragged himself to the front door with Link in tow, they were drenched.

Their hair plastered to their scalps -and in Ghirahim's case, one side of his face- they came to a stop, and Ghirahim smiled at Link.

"You know, I _was_ going to stick to the deal we'd made. But seeing you in the rain like this is simply too tempting to resist."

Link barely had time to figure out what the other meant before the distance between them vanished and he was being held in place by Ghirahim's strong hands around his arms. And a pair of soft lips on his own.

Link's eyes widened only to find Ghirahim's dark ones right in front of him, strands of silvery hair clinging to his long nose and pale forehead. Immediately he pushed Ghirahim away, reeling back none too gracefully himself.

"What the hell?!" he demanded, snapping out of his drunken stupor and wiping his face with his sleeve. "What the _hell_ was that?!"

Ghirahim had recovered, it seemed, brushing imaginary dirt from his shoulder as he fixed Link with a bright smile.

"Exactly as I'd imagined," he said, half to himself. He blinked and addressed Link then. "What was it, you ask? Well, it appears you're even more wasted than I thought. It was a kiss, you dimwit."

"Oh, shut your mouth!" Link snapped. "How could you _do_ that to me?! You... You violated me! You just kissed me; you just stole my _first kiss_ from me. You took away something that's important, and you don't even feel _bad_ about it! That was... That was disgusting!"

"I thought it was quite _romantic_, actually," Ghirahim opined, grinning mischievously. Link was in no mood for it.

"I can't believe you! Do you honestly-?!"

"If I were you, I'd _probably_ be more worried about our little audience."

Link was about to continue his rant, but stopped himself short when Ghirahim pointed a long finger toward the front doors, glancing over to see what was happening.

Groose, Cawlin and Stritch stood inside the front doors, roaring with laughter as Link gazed helplessly back at them.

Groose banged a fist against the glass with a confident, satisfied grin, leaning over so that his breath formed in a small cloud on the glass' surface when he spoke.

"Wait till your precious Zelda hears about this, pipsqueak!" he shouted. "Wait till she finds out who you've got the hots for!"

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed that! Until next time!**


	11. Rumour Has It

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! Here is chapter eleven! I apologise for the irregular updates, but summer has kept me surprisingly busy. Here's hoping you enjoy this chapter!**

Groose took off down the corridor like a bullet, leaving Cawlin and Stritch to catch up with him. Link watched with growing dread, rooted to the spot in a moment of shock.

"Oh my," said Ghirahim, not bothering to hide his satisfaction as he flicked soaking strands of hair from his face. "This could be _very_ troublesome. For you, anyway."

Link whirled to face him, ignoring the dull ache in the back of his head. At this point, he was beyond furious. "I'm not done with you. When all of this is over I'm going to absolutely murder you."

"I look forward to it," Ghirahim replied, back to sounding bored with everything. "Be sure to let me know what happens between you and that dimwit."

With a final shake of his head, Link threw open the doors and bolted in the direction Groose had taken off in, droplets of water splashing onto the floor as he went. He ignored the shaking fists of students he had to push past, throwing apologies over his shoulder. Despite his body's protests that he slow down, he kept on, determined to cut Groose off. His head was pounding but he didn't dare stop running.

He turned a corner and found Cawlin and Stritch jogging to keep up with Groose, who was sprinting at a pace that was surprising in someone of his build. He glanced over his shoulder and laughed obnoxiously.

"The secrets out, scatterbrain!" he jeered. "We all know you've got a crush on our school's resident freak!"

With a grunt of frustration, Link made a desperate attempt at speeding up. Cawlin and Stritch tried to grab him as he passed but ended up tripping over their own feet, shouting as they blamed each other for the mishap.

Link stretched out an arm, reaching for Groose's bulky one. He managed to curl his fingers around the fabric of Groose's blue shirt, yelling in surprise when he was pulled forward. He crashed into Groose, sending them both sprawling in a frenzy of flailing limbs. Passing students made no move to help, some of them actually picking up their pace in order to avoid the confrontation.

Link managed to scuttle away from Groose and picked himself up seconds before Groose shot to his feet, scowling at Link.

"You come into this school acting like you're the greatest," he spat. "Sweet, innocent Link, who wouldn't dare hurt anyone; Link with his heads in the clouds. Link, who hangs around with Zelda, but who we now know is gay! Head-over-heels for none other than _Ghirahim_!"

"I am not head-over-heels for anyone!" Link snapped. "_Definitely_ not him!"

"Oh, come on! Everyone in our grade knows he's your little Science buddy."

"I didn't want to sit with him," Link replied, growing more frustrated by the second. "The fact that I ended up sitting with him isn't my fault."

"You haven't even tried to talk to a teacher about moving," Groose pointed out. "If that's not proof enough I don't know what is."

"There's nothing to prove!" Link protested. "Whatever you saw was nothing!"

"Oh, I bet," Groose snickered. "I wonder what else you two get up to over lunch!"

"Are you serious?" Link could feel himself losing it, but he was far too annoyed with Groose to stop himself now. "There is absolutely _nothing_ between me and Ghirahim. If I had my way, I wouldn't be within ten miles of the guy! Don't think he hasn't treated me badly, Groose. Just because you didn't see it doesn't mean it didn't happen. I don't care what you say, because it's nowhere near the truth. There's nothing for you to get involved with."

Groose seemed quite taken aback, blinking a few times before he regained composure. Obviously he wasn't used to being spoken to in this way. Link took a small step back as Groose advanced, the redhead looking both embarrassed and furious all at once.

"Do you really-?"

"Hey, hey!" a voice interrupted. Groose leaned to the right so he could see, and Link turned around with a frown, relaxing once he saw it was Pipit. Cawlin and Stritch trailed behind him, looking unsure of whether they wanted to be there or not.

"What's going on?" Pipit demanded, hands on his hips. Link turned to gesture toward Groose, who was glaring at them both now.

"Your little friend is a faggot, Pit!" he said, jabbing a finger in Link's direction.

"My name is Pipit," the brunet replied, stepping around Link to address the taller teen. "And I have no idea what you're talking about. I've known Link since he was eight years old, Groose. Do yourself a favour and stop talking rubbish."

"Oh, yeah?" Groose advanced, towering over Pipit. "I saw him kissing at lunchtime today! Cawlin and Stritch saw them too!"

At that, Groose's cohorts began nodding frantically.

"Yeah, we saw him outside the front doors!" Stritch put in.

"Kissing in the rain!" Cawlin jeered.

"You really would do anything for attention, wouldn't you?" Pipit asked, disapproving.

Groose made a noise of irritation, rounding on Link. "Can't fight your own battles, can you?"

"Just like you can't stay out of other people's business?" Link snapped.

"Okay, both of you stop this," Pipit ordered, placing himself neatly between the two. "Groose, what is this rumour you're trying to start?"

"It's _not_ a rumour," the larger male insisted. "I saw Link kissing Ghirahim! I'm not lying!"

Pipit stood still for a moment, and Link waited for him to respond with a growing sense of trepidation.

"Groose, if you think Link would _ever_ kiss Ghirahim, then you clearly have some problems," he stated.

Groose grit his teeth, and stalked away from Pipit and Link with a huff. He turned to glare at them again, and Link saw just how angry Groose was at how he'd missed an opportunity to bully someone.

"I know what I saw, Link," he called. "And soon _everyone's_ gonna know about your little secret!"

He turned a corner and vanished out of sight among other students. After a second, Cawlin and Stritch went running after him. Pipit turned to Link, looking both worried and faintly suspicious.

"Link. What Groose said about you kissing Ghirahim… It's not actually true, right?"

Link forced himself to laugh, the sound strained. "Are you kidding? Obviously not. I mean, I can't stand the guy, Pipit."

"Okay," Pipit gave his friend a small smile. "Of course, it's just like Groose to try something like this."

Link just shrugged, willing the discussion about Groose to come to an end.

"Want to get to the gym?" he asked. "We don't want to be the ones on Parrow's bad side."

"Good point," said Pipit, already headed in that direction. "The basketball trials are tomorrow, after all."

Link almost missed a step, straightening before Pipit noticed. He felt like smacking himself for being so stupid. How could he have forgotten about that? Pipit had been practising almost religiously in Skyloft's Plaza with a makeshift basketball hoop ever since Parrow had talked to them about it, while Link made pathetic excuses to stay at home.

"Of course," he said half-heartedly. "I hope they go well for you."

"And you!" Pipit reminded him. "I know Sparrot told you it wouldn't turn out great, but I have faith in you."

Again, Link had to force a laugh. "Let's just hope that's enough, then."

It seemed Parrow was just as eager for the basketball trials as Pipit. He spent the entire class working through countless drills, despite the complaints he received from most students.

Link ran in and out between coloured cones, trying to bounce the basketball as he moved. The line spanned the length of the gym, and six students were to tackle the drill at a time. Pipit was ahead of Link, leading the way with no trouble at all.

Karane was on Link's heels, yelling for him to hurry up so he wouldn't hold up everyone else. Though it didn't seem like there was any need to speed up too much; Fledge, Zelda and Orielle were a considerable distance behind. It seemed basketball just wasn't for them.

Gym class ended after a lot of people crashing into each other and laughing, and the students piled out of the gym chatting about who would be the most likely to get onto the basketball team. Pipit and Groose were mentioned quite a bit. After Parrow gave the students a last few words of encouragement for the next day, he let them go.

Jakamar was waiting when the students arrived, flicking to where they had left off in Les Miserables. The chapter they were reading was the longest and possibly the most boring in the novel. How Victor Hugo could discuss politics for so long, Link would never know. The class seemed to drag on for hours; whispers started among the students after a while, most likely a desperate attempt to fend off boredom.

The bell rang and the students almost tripped over each other in their rush to get out of the classroom. Link was walking with Fledge and Pipit to their last class when he noticed groups of students glancing in his direction, speaking to each other in hushed tones.

"Pipit," he said slowly, "what's going on?"

His friend took a look around and saw what Link was referring to.

"I'm not sure," he said, frowning. "Probably nothing to worry about anyways."

Link nodded in agreement, but it didn't stop him from turning to look over his shoulders at people who averted their gaze when he did.

* * *

Pipit shut the door of his locker and swung his bag over one shoulder, letting out a sigh.

"Only three more days to go until the weekend!" he said happily. Link shook his head with a smile, stuffing his History textbook into his bag.

"Is that all you ever think about?" he asked, shutting his locker's door.

"Most of the time, yeah," Pipit replied. "You ready to go? That bus driver never hangs about too long."

"Um, I have to ask Fi about our Maths homework," Link said, picking up his bag. "You go ahead and I'll walk home."

"Are you sure?" Pipit asked. "What's so important that you have to ask Fi?"

"I just don't really understand what we were doing in class, is all."

"No one did," Pipit said dryly. "But if you want to make a second attempt, you can."

"Alright then, I'll see you later."

They each went their own ways, Pipit headed for the front gates while Link wandered aimlessly through empty corridors for a few minutes, thinking quietly.

In particular, her thought about the reasons behind his hanging around with Ghirahim.

He knew the main reason was because of the threat Ghirahim posed to his friends. But he'd discovered that Ghirahim had his own problems too, that he wasn't everything he seemed. So why didn't Link put an end to all of it? He could always figure out more about Ghirahim from other students, rather than trying to puzzle things out slowly.

However, a part of him was arguing that most of the students would have biased opinions. From what he'd gathered, not a lot of people had good relations with Ghirahim. Most of what they said would be negative, and even exaggerated in some cases. That, he told himself, was the reason he needed to keep in touch with Ardaia and Rynae; because they seemed to be the only ones that actually liked Ghirahim -and probably hadn't been scared into doing it.

He jogged up a flight of stairs and turned a corner, reeling backwards when he bumped into none other than Rynae. The tanned teen laughed, steadying Link with a hand on his shoulder.

"Where are you rushing off to?" he asked, brushing his dark hair back.

"I was, uh, well..." Link faltered before he came up with an answer. "I was actually hoping I could get your phone number."

Rynae raised one eyebrow, grinning slyly. "You trying to tell me something, Link?"

It took Link a moment to realize what Rynae was suggesting, and he immediately started to defend himself.

"No! Not like _that_, jeez. I didn't mean it like that. I just think it would be useful if I could keep in contact with you guys."

"I'm assuming you're talking about Ardaia and Ghirahim."

"Yes. Is that okay? I mean you don't have to-"

"Why would it not be okay?" Rynae asked, looking genuinely puzzled. "Here, I'll write them down. Hopefully you'll be able to read it."

"Thanks," Link said, as Rynae pulled out a pocket notebook and pen, writing the numbers from memory. He stripped off the page and handed it to Link.

"There you go," he said. "Ghirahim is in Owlan's laboratory, in case you're looking for him."

"Oh, okay," Link replied, pocketing the paper.

"Also," Rynae's smile grew wider. "Ardaia wanted me to _congratulate_ you."

Link blanked for a moment before he glared at Rynae.

"Tell him I said thanks," he spat.

"I've got to go meet that idiot now anyway," Rynae said, "so I guess I'll see you around."

He started off down the corridor, waving his goodbye.

"Have fun," Link called after him, and Rynae stumbled none too gracefully, righting himself with flaming cheeks.

"I'll, uh, we will, Link," he replied, darting around the corner quicker than ever. Link smiled, and took off in the opposite direction. He navigated his way through the school hallways until he came to a stop outside Owlan's laboratory. He smiled when he spotted two heads of white hair inside through the glass panel on the side of the doorframe. Debating with himself for a moment, he finally opted to push open the door and step quietly inside.

Ghirahim was sitting in front of Owlan's desk, listening to whatever it was the teacher was saying. Neither of them noticed Link, absorbed in their conversation. He closed the door quietly and kept himself pressed against the door.

"Your condition is genetic, Ghirahim," Owlan was saying. "Aside from taking the medication you've already been prescribed, there isn't really a lot you can do."

Ghirahim looked down at his hands, knotting them together, and Link watched him tug uncomfortably at his gloves. He was quiet for a moment, and when Owlan spoke, he sounded very concerned.

"You _have_ been taking them, haven't you?"

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Ghirahim snapped. "Of course I have. Not that they ever do any good."

"I don't think you're stupid, Ghirahim. But you know that you'd be far worse than you are now, if- Oh, hello, Link!"

Link felt colour rise to his cheeks when the Science teacher gave him a welcoming wave of his hand, trying to ignore the grin Ghirahim wore.

"There he is," Ghirahim said. "The celebrity of the school."

Link frowned at him, not understanding at all. "What are you talking about?"

"I'll explain it to you later," he grinned, standing and picking up his stool. With grace that almost seemed unnecessary, he returned it to its place behind one of the desks and dusted off his hands.

"Is there a reason you came, Link?" Owlan asked, smiling.

"I, eh, I was looking for Ghirahim, actually," he said, and already his cheeks were turning an even darker shade of red. Ghirahim's grin just grew wider.

"I'm _honoured_," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Owlan's smile brightened.

"It's good to see you've branched out a bit, Ghirahim," he said happily. "I know Ardaia and Rynae are very good to you, but-"

"But Link is simply delightful company," Ghirahim cut him off. "I know. Now, if you'll excuse us, Owlan, we'll be on our way."

"No problem at all," said Owlan. "Remember, you should try to-"

"I'm aware," Ghirahim interrupted once more, moving toward Link and taking him by the arm. "Goodbye."

"See you tomorrow," Owlan called. "You too, Link!"

"Bye, Professor," Link replied just before the door was shut. Ghirahim gave a satisfied nod, taking off down the corridor and leaving Link to catch up, walking quickly to keep up with Ghirahim's long strides.

"What do you mean I'm the 'celebrity of the school?"

Ghirahim smiled. "Haven't you heard? People haven't stopped talking about you ever since Groose started spreading word of our little… display."

"Wait, what? People actually believe him?"

"It's not that hard to believe," said Ghirahim, turning a sharp corner. "Besides, Groose knows a lot of people. It just so happens that a lot of them are idiots."

Link couldn't help smiling at that, however it vanished twice as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by his annoyance.

"How many people, exactly?"

"I'll find out for you right now," Ghirahim replied cheerfully, pulling out his phone. Link waited silently while he tapped a few keys, no doubt sending a text message to Ardaia or Rynae. After an uncomfortable two minutes, Link's patience was wearing thin.

"Well?" he asked as they walked down the stairs, approaching the front doors. "I thought Ardaia and Rynae know everything about everyone."

"Patience is a virtue," said Ghirahim, a hint of annoyance in his tone. "I'm sure those two don't want to be interrupted with such a silly question."

Link made a 'tsk' sound, glowering. After a few seconds, Ghirahim's phone vibrated and he gave Link a condescending smile. It vibrated again and Link waited for him to read the texts. Finally, Ghirahim laughed dryly.

"Rynae's count adds up to about ninety students so far, give or take a few," he said, "but Ardaia reckons the whole of our grade –and more- will know about this by tomorrow morning."

"The whole… _What_?!"

Ghirahim pushed open the front doors, stepping outside with a spring in his step. He spun on one heel, directing a bright smile at Link, who stared back in bewilderment.

"Do you think this is funny?" Link demanded, his voice escalating in volume as he grew more and more furious by the second. He stepped outside and slammed the door behind him, trying not to jump at the 'bang' that followed. "You had absolutely no right to... to _kiss_ me! Didn't it occur to you that I might not have wanted you to? I could report you for this! I should!"

"So why haven't you?" Ghirahim asked, sickeningly sweet. He was looking at Link with false curiosity, but self-satisfaction was all too clear.

Link opened his mouth to continue his rant, but found he couldn't come up with anything to say in response. Because Ghirahim had a point; Link hadn't actually made a move against him until now.

"Because..." Link faltered, scrubbing a hand through his hair. "Because-!"

"Do you always do that when you're embarrassed?" Ghirahim interrupted. He mimicked the movement, though in a far more casual manner, smiling all the while. "Just something I noticed. Do carry on with whatever you were saying."

"I can't- I mean, I don't have... You are driving me _insane_, you know that?"

"Who, me?" Ghirahim put on a hurt look, but it was soon replaced with a smile. "Do I drive the words right out of your head? You don't know what it means to be driven to insanity, Link, no matter how much of a bother I am to you."

"I don't care!" Link snapped. "Why the hell did you do it?"

"You mean why did I kiss you?"

"What else could I be talking about?!"

"Calm down," Ghirahim said coolly. "Honestly, you're _far_ too easily flustered."

"Look," said Link, stepping forward. "If you don't start explaining what you did, I swear I'll-"

"I kissed you because I wanted to," Ghirahim cut in. Link stopped himself from advancing to frown at Ghirahim.

"What?" he asked.

"I wanted to kiss you," Ghirahim said, as if it was a perfectly reasonable explanation. "And so, I did."

Link blinked, laughing near-hysterically. "That means _nothing_! You don't just walk up to people and... and kiss them!"

"Not true," Ghirahim objected. "It's happened far more than you'd think. In fact, on Rynae's first day here, Ardaia did exactly as you said. Walked over and gave the poor boy a kiss."

Link couldn't imagine anything of the sort ever happening, but Ghirahim looked deadly serious. After a moment, he smirked.

"I suppose Ardaia isn't the best example, considering how ..._open_... he is. But I really can't understand why this is all such a big deal for you."

Link was truly lost for words for a moment, meeting Ghirahim's curious expression with his own baffled one.

"My... My friends are probably going to start thinking I'm _gay_!" he said, his fists clenching.

"What's wrong with that?" Ghirahim asked, and Link froze at his icy tone. His arms crossed, Ghirahim was watching Link carefully, and looking genuinely offended.

Link stood silent, fighting for the right words. Ghirahim waited with growing impatience, and Link looked over his shoulder at cars that sped past, wishing he was in one of them so he could avoid all of this.

"Please say something," Ghirahim requested after a moment, glancing to the school doors briefly before his eyes darted back to Link.

Link, who was trying to arrange his thoughts, was thrown off by that. He frowned at Ghirahim in a mixture of annoyance and confusion.

"I'm trying to think! What do you want me to say?"

"Just keep talking," Ghirahim ordered. "I don't care what it is, just talk, please!"

"Why would-? Could you please just explain what's going on with... with _you_? What condition was Owlan talking about? Why do you take medication?"

Ghirahim took a deep breath before he spoke again. "Eavesdropping is a _very_ rude thing to do. There's nothing wrong with me; you just think too much about everything. I have nothing to explain to you. You, however, didn't answer my question. Tell me what's wrong with being gay."

"I didn't say there was anything wrong with it!"

"You implied it," Ghirahim accused. "You made it sound like it's a bad thing."

"It's not," Link insisted. "It's just, well, I'm _not_ gay! I didn't want you to kiss me, is all. I want to know the reason for it, though. The real reason."

"I wanted to see what it was like," Ghirahim said, quiet all of a sudden. "To kiss someone and to really mean it."

Link raised his eyebrows, lips parted slightly. He genuinely didn't know how to respond. Ghirahim glanced to where a sleek black car was parked outside the school gates, seeming regretful.

"If you can think of a response, feel free to tell me in the morning," he said. "Right now, I really must be going."

"Don't you get the bus like everyone else?"

"No. I thought you did, though."

"I do, usually," said Link. "But today I stayed so I could talk to you."

"How _sweet_," Ghirahim sneered. He began walking in the direction of the gates, hands in his pockets. But Link stopped him, grabbing his sleeve and tugging the other teen back. Ghirahim spun on his heel, pulling his arm away from Link with a scowl.

"Wait a minute," said Link. "Just wait. You said you wanted to see what it was like to kiss someone and mean it. Does that..? I mean, do you have _feelings_ for me or something? Or is this some stupid joke?"

Ghirahim stared at Link with his expression devoid of emotion for a long time, before smiling devilishly.

"I can assure you that this wasn't a part of any joke," he said. "But feelings, Link? You're even _more_ of a fool than I thought you were. Now I really should be getting a move on."

"Why don't you take the bus, anyway?" Link asked.

"I choose not to," Ghirahim replied, a defensive edge creeping into his tone. Link knew he was getting somewhere, though, and he wasn't going to stop now.

"There's some reason," he pressed. "What's so important that your parents have to go out of their way to pick you up every day?"

Ghirahim barked a dry laugh, shooting another quick glance at the car. "My parents haven't ever picked me up from school. And they won't, either. "

"So... who is that, then?" Link asked, also looking at the car. He couldn't see the driver clearly thanks to the car's tinted windows.

"A driver," said Ghirahim. "And no one for you to bother yourself with. Now, I'm leaving. See you tomorrow, Link."

He gave a quick wave of his fingers, turning and striding away.

"Ghirahim, would you-?"

"I like it when you call me by my name," Ghirahim commented, cutting across Link's question. He smiled at Link over his shoulder, pulling out his phone as he neared the car.

Link watched the driver move to get out, but Ghirahim waved a hand in dismissal, pulling open the backseat door and seating himself gracefully. His fingers moved swiftly over the phone's keys, unquestionably texting either Ardaia or Rynae with some information. Despite it being the only possible piece of news he could be talking about, Link couldn't help hoping that Ghirahim wasn't discussing him.

The door slammed shut and Link followed the car's movement as it rolled off before he left, headed for home.

"Well, that was of no use," he muttered, scowling at the pavement.

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed that! Be sure to tell me what you think!**


	12. Paranoid

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! I hope summer is going well for all of you. And now, here is chapter twelve! I'm not a huge fan of this chapter but, here's hoping you all enjoy it!**

**And a big thank you to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading!**

Link pushed the apartment door open and slipped inside, smiling when he found Mallara cooking in the kitchen.

"Oh, Link!" she called, turning from the steaming pots. "You're late home. Pipit is out practising his basketball again. That boy will wear himself out before those trials even start!"

Link just smiled, going to the refrigerator to get himself a drink of water. "That's just Pipit, I guess. He really wants to get on that team, and our gym teacher thinks he has a huge chance."

"Well, if it costs anything at all, then he can pay for it," Mallara decided, while Link filled a glass. "Are you going to try out too, Link?"

"Well, Pipit wants me to," he replied, taking a drink. "But I'm not so sure. I don't think I could commit to something the way Pipit's able to."

"Maybe joining would be good for you," said Mallara, stirring a pot of peas absent-mindedly as she spoke. "Clubs and groups are great! Interacting with lots of people your own age can never be a bad thing. And sport is a wonderful stress reliever, too. It'd certainly give you something to do during your lunch break."

"Uh, Mallara, could I use the phone?" Link asked in an effort to change the subject.

"Oh, of course!" Mallara smiled. "I think Pipit left it lying somewhere. Are you sending a text?"

"Just one or two." Link finished his drink and set the glass down, walking to where he knew the phone would be: under Pipit's cushion, hidden from sight.

Backing out of Pipit's text conversation with Karane, he pulled out the sheet Rynae had given him and tapped in the first number written down. After a moment staring at the blank message box, he simply typed, 'This is Link.' With a shrug, he sent the text and moved on to the next number, typing in the same message.

As he was about to send the last text, he received a reply. He sent his message and checked for the response.

'_Rynae. Got your number saved.'_

Not two seconds later, another text came in.

'_Ardaia here! Got your number saved.'_

Again, another reply.

'_And this is Ghirahim. It's always nice to talk to YOU, Link.'_

Link made a face at the screen before he fumbled around in search of a pen. He wrote 'R', 'A' and 'G' next to the respective numbers before stuffing the page back in his pocket. Getting up, he took the phone with him and headed for the front door of the apartment.

"I'm going out for a bit, Mallara," he called, pulling the door open. "I'll eat later."

"Don't stay out too long, Link!" she warned, just as the door shut.

Link jogged down the stairs and out onto Skyloft's streets. Small children ran about with toy slingshots, chasing each other happily and swerving to avoid crashing into Link as he walked along. To avoid running into Pipit at the Plaza, he took the longer route to the Bazaar, passing by small houses and areas of greenery until he mounted the steps leading to the Bazaar.

The atmosphere was as lively as always, sellers and buyers alike laughing and shouting. The smell of Luv's exotic concoctions filled the air as she toiled over large pots filled with the colourful mixtures. Link gave them a wave, shuffling by passing customers and apologising here and there when he bumped into someone. He found his way to Sparrot's tiny stall, trying not to be put off by the way the man stared at him so intently.

"So you have returned," Sparrot said, sounding as if he were caught in some daydream. "I knew that you would."

"Sparrot. Remember when-?"

"I remember everything," Sparrot interrupted, sounding mildly irritated. "Have you come to learn what lies before you?"

"You've already told me," Link reminded him. "I have a question to ask you, about, well... what lies before me."

"And what is that question?"

"You said that there was someone I had to help. But, what's wrong with him? What is it that I have to help him with?"

"Ah," Sparrot sighed. "Of course, that is a reasonable question for you to ask. But it is not for me to answer. Go to those who know him and ask their guidance."

Link stood silent, almost disbelieving. Finally he shook his head.

"What a _great_ fortune teller you are," he muttered, turning away and ignoring Sparrot's demands for him to come back.

He took the phone from out of his pocket along with his sheet and tapped Ardaia's number in, typing quickly.

'_Ardaia. What's wrong with Ghirahim?'_

He walked among stalls as he waited for a reply, knowing already that it would come soon. Sure enough, it arrived after a few seconds.

_'Hey Link. Did something happen? Ghirahim looked pretty happy last time I saw him.'_

Link glared at the screen, punching in a reply. '_Don't mess around. Owlan said he had a condition. What is it?'_

"Well, I'd text you back, but I think it'd be pretty rude to continue talking this way."

Link spun and found Ardaia smiling happily down at him. He'd swapped his multi-coloured shirt for a dark red one, one hand in the pocket of his yellow jeans.

"What are you doing here?" Link asked, putting the phone back in his pocket.

"Nice to see you too. As for what I'm doing here, well, it's probably the same thing you are," the older teen replied.

"Going to have Sparrot tell your future?" Link didn't think Ardaia was too bothered with knowing his fortune.

"Nah; already been there," Ardaia grinned. "Anyway, what was it you were asking about?"

"Ghirahim," Link reminded him. "I want you to tell me about what's wrong with him."

"Oh, lots of things." Ardaia's laugh was brittle. Link took him firmly by the arm and led him to one of the tables in Piper's café. Ardaia seated himself across from Link, dwarfing the stool he was perched on. As soon as she noticed they were seated, Piper rushed to prepare something for them. Ardaia laughed quietly before he spoke up.

"I don't think we'll be eating today, Piper," he told her, and she scowled at him. "We'll take any wine you have, though."

"You'll take a coffee," she snapped. Ardaia just rolled his eyes, turning back to a very impatient Link.

"Okay," said Link. "No distractions. I want you to be perfectly honest, too."

"Look, I don't think-"

"You are _not leaving_ until I have some sort of information."

The redhead looked very uncomfortable, his bright eyes darting left and right before he sighed.

"Okay... Just, ask your questions and I'll answer whatever I can."

Link took a breath, setting his elbows on the table and looking Ardaia directly in the eye. Fishing around in the pockets of his jeans, Ardaia pulled out a cigarette and lit it, placing it between his lips. Link grimaced at the smell of smoke but didn't let it sway him.

"The other day I was… talking with Ghirahim," Link began, "but after a few minutes he kind of just stopped and started staring at nothing. At least, I think it was nothing. And then he took this pill, and just left. Then today, you know, he was freaking out and saying that you guys had been caught-"

"Link," Ardaia interrupted with a small smile. "I know all of this already. No offense, but can you get to the point?"

"Sorry," Link muttered. "I forgot you all keep track of every waking moment."

"Just the necessities," Ardaia pointed out. The cigarette wobbled precariously whenever he spoke.

"_Anyway_!" Link thumped a fist on the table for good measure. "I want you to tell me what that's all about."

"Can't you ask Ghirahim?" Ardaia looked eager to be anywhere except the Bazaar. "I don't want to go behind his back. He wouldn't like it."

"Oh, come on," Link pleaded. "Ghirahim won't tell me. But I need to know."

"Why?" Ardaia asked, his eyes narrowing a little. It looked about as close to suspicion as was possible for someone like him. "Maybe Ghirahim has his reasons for not wanting to tell people. You're not like everyone else in our school, are you? Not like Groose, spreading rumours and all. You don't seem like that kind of guy."

"I'm not like that. And I'm not going to tell anyone, I promise. It's just that, maybe... he could be helped, you know?"

Ardaia raised his eyebrows in surprise. He stretched out a long arm and rested a strong hand on Link's, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I knew you were different, Link," he said, his eyes shining. "I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you."

Link didn't quite know what he meant by that, but it seemed Ardaia would be a little more willing to reveal some more information now.

"What's his problem, Ardaia?" Link asked.

Ardaia withdrew his hand, drumming his fingers on the desk. "I forgot you don't like public displays of affection. Anyway, I'll do my best to explain. You should know that I'm about to break a silence that's been kept for about three years. I hope you appreciate that."

"I do." Link had to smile at how serious Ardaia seemed. Thank you."

Ardaia opened his mouth to start, but stopped himself when Piper arrived, setting down two steaming mugs of coffee in front of the two. He thanked her, lifting his mug in a mock-toast before he handed her two blue rupees.

"You keep the change," he told her, before taking a long drink. Piper just rolled her eyes as she took them, returning to her cooking.

"Sorry about that," Ardaia apologised to Link. "Ghirahim. How should I explain this..? Do you know what schizophrenia is, Link?"

Link frowned, trying to recall where he'd heard the word before. He thought he'd read about it in a book a long time ago, but he wasn't sure.

"That's when you hear voices and things, isn't it? Things that aren't there?" It was a very inaccurate description, but Link was nearly sure that's what he'd known of it as being.

"Err, sort of. Ghirahim suffers from paranoid schizophrenia. Like you said, he hears voices and other things at times. But he also has… Well, I guess you'd call them delusions."

"Delusions?"

"Beliefs that are irrational, that people believe even though there's no proof of them being real. What would be a good example..? Ah. You've probably noticed that Ghirahim isn't Zelda's biggest fan."

"I'd _never_ have guessed it," Link replied, taking a sip of coffee.

"Well, it's been like that for as long as I can remember. Even before he came to Her Grace's, Ghirahim was suspicious about the school. His... family came close to bribing him in order to make him. He didn't want to enrol because he was sure something terrible would happen to him."

"What could happen to him?" Link asked, confused.

Ardaia sighed, lacing his fingers together. "You'll probably think I'm lying. The 'terrible thing' that Ghirahim was so worried about, it took form... in Zelda and her father. Ghirahim believes that Zelda and Gaepora are, well, working against him."

Link set down his mug, staring at Ardaia in a mixture of disbelief and amusement. There was no way that was true. And yet, Ardaia was watching him expectantly, looking as solemn as Link had ever seen him. "Are you joking?"

"Of course not; I told you I'd be honest. I don't know all the details, but Ghirahim is absolutely convinced that one day, if he steps too far out of line -which in my opinion was a _long_ time ago- Gaepora is going to expel him and send him packing. Which, based on the kind of upbringing he has, wouldn't be too great for Ghirahim."

"But that's _absurd_. Where would Gaepora even send him?"

"Not sure on that one," Ardaia said with a small frown. "We asked him what his biggest fear was once. He told us that if he was sent to a madhouse, you know, like a mental home, that he really would go insane. My best guess is that Ghirahim thinks Gaepora's trying to guarantee him a one-way ticket to an asylum. In truth, Ghirahim has all the qualifications of your typical patient."

"But, what does Ghirahim think Gaepora is going to expel him for? What does he consider stepping out of line to be?"

"He won't say exactly," Ardaia sighed. "I think maybe Owlan knows. Ghirahim trusts him –at least a little. Because Owlan is a very open person; he knows how to steer Ghirahim in the right direction. Keep bad thoughts at bay. At least, he does his best to. In any case, Ghirahim has improved. If you'd seen him last year, you wouldn't think it was the same person. You saw Ghirahim talking to Owlan today, right?"

"How did you know?"

"Because Ghirahim told me."

Link should have seen that coming, but he just rolled his eyes and took another sip of coffee. Ardaia's cup was left just as it had been.

"Well, Owlan is encouraging Ghirahim to keep up with the medication he's been given. He hopes it'll calm Ghirahim's mind, make him start seeing things the way they really are. Ghirahim's aware of the world around him, like us, but in a very negative way."

"What do you mean?" If Link was honest, he hadn't really been expecting a talk like this.

"He's sort of… hyper-aware, I guess. His mind is never relaxed completely. Paranoid schizophrenia makes you wary of everything around you. Every word someone says, every movement they make. That's why Ghirahim, Rynae and I are constantly texting. It's a network of information, all originating from -and leading back to- Ghirahim. He gives us information he thinks is relevant –which, sometimes, is nothing at all- in exchange for information we give him about people in our school. Ghirahim takes mental notes on just about everything."

Link shook his head slowly; trying to take in and understand all of the information was proving more difficult than he'd anticipated. "Is that the reason he always goes into so much detail about everything?"

"Do you remember your first Science class?" Ardaia asked. "When Ghirahim was tasked with finding out information about you."

"I don't think I'll ever forget," Link admitted. "That was _really_ weird."

"Ghirahim met us after that class with his page covered. Every line had something written on it."

"I don't know if I should take that as a compliment," Link said slowly. "This is all because he's… what, cautious?"

"Yes. But I don't think what he wrote about you was written entirely out of paranoia; Ghirahim seems to like you. But he pretty much does that with everyone he meets. Because in his head, there's a part of him that adamantly believes they could be associated with Zelda, or Gaepora or anyone at all. His mother, or –maybe not that."

But Link wasn't about to let any information be kept back now. However it seemed he'd touched on something a little too personal. So instead he tried approaching from a different angle.

"Ghirahim doesn't take the bus," he stated. "Why?"

"Zelda takes the bus," Ardaia said simply, taking a long drag from his cigarette, "so Ghirahim refuses to."

Link gave a short laugh, unable to believe that was the only reason. That was all that stopped Ghirahim taking public transport?

"Is _that_ it?" he asked, incredulous. "Doesn't it bother him, having to be picked up like a child?"

Ardaia tensed for a moment, his thin fingers clenching around the handle of his white coffee mug.

"I wouldn't say that to Ghirahim's face if I were you," he said quietly. "He lives further out of town, anyway, and what would happen if he started tormenting Zelda every day for no reason? I don't know her very well, but I don't want anyone picked on for no reason at all. And if Ghirahim was persecuting her, he might _really_ be expelled."

Link shrugged. He supposed having Ghirahim take the bus could turn out to be quite chaotic. But there were still some questions that needed answering.

"Who picks him up after school, then? He said his parents have never picked him up before."

"That makes sense," Ardaia muttered, before he cleared his throat and continued. "His… his _guardian_… arranges for a driver to collect Ghirahim twenty minutes after school every day. The twenty minutes are for his visits to Owlan."

"Guardian?"

Ardaia grimaced, pushing back his stool and standing up. "Link, this is off-limits. I'd happily answer anything else, but please, not this. It's not for me to share, really."

Link stood too, abandoning his cup of coffee. "Please, Ardaia. I-"

"_Link_!" Ardaia practically hissed. "You're great, really you are, but I don't talk about other people's families. Sorry."

Link sighed, offering Ardaia a half-smile. "I understand. Thanks for telling me what you did, though."

"No worries," Ardaia smiled. "Man! Everything is so _depressing_ with you and Ghirahim. The sooner you two start sorting yourselves out, the better."

Link raised an eyebrow. "Sort ourselves out?"

Ardaia winked, giving Link a sly grin. "Don't think Ghirahim didn't tell me about what you to were up to after you left us."

"Oh, this is awful," Link moaned, feeling his face flush red in embarrassment. Ardaia just laughed.

"Honestly Link, it was _one kiss_," he said, spreading his arms in a carefree manner. "It's not like you were making out in the front hall."

"Would you stop being so open when we're in public?" Link demanded. "People don't need to hear more about that than they have."

"I'm just saying," Ardaia defended, still smiling. "Besides, there are barely any students here. I mean, if you think what _you_ did was bad, you should see what me and _Rynae_ get up to." Ardaia paused, considering for a moment. "Maybe don't mention that to him, though; I don't think he'd like it much."

"I don't think so either," Link agreed. "Look, I'd really better run now; Mallara will murder me if I'm late home. And I still have homework."

"Ah, that's too bad." Ardaia shrugged. "Good luck with your homework anyways. I'll see you tomorrow."

He gave Link's shoulder a pat, grinning. "I won't kiss you or anything today. See you later, Link."

"Ardaia?" Link stopped the taller teen walking away with a hand on his forearm. "Can I ask you one more question?"

"Sure," Ardaia smiled. "What's up?"

"This is... kind of awkward," Link muttered, scuffing his feet as he shifted them nervously. "How did you..? How did you figure out that you were gay?"

If Ardaia was surprised, he did a good job of hiding it. He laughed softly.

"I'm not gay," he said, and Link stared back at him in confusion.

"You're not? But then, are you straight? I thought-"

Ardaia grinned. "I'm _not_ straight, Link. I bend both ways."

"O-Oh, right," Link said, managing to give Ardaia a weak smile. "Sorry."

"No worries," Ardaia shrugged nonchalantly. "To answer your question: I just sort of knew, I guess. In seventh grade I was dating a cute girl, and we had really great times too. But we broke up that summer and I moved on. And then when we started back up in school, I somehow ran into Rynae."

"And you kissed him," said Link, remembering what Ghirahim had said.

Ardaia wasn't fazed in the slightest. If anything, he looked delighted. "_After_ I introduced myself."

Link shook his head. He couldn't decide if Ardaia's boldness was something to admire or be wary of.

"So I'll see you tomorrow, Link," he said. He gave Link a pat on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Ardaia."

Ardaia turned and vanished among the groups of customers, long hair swishing as he strode. Link stood quiet for a few moments before he shook himself, taking off for home.

He jogged most of the way, thinking to himself as he went. About what Ardaia had told him, and about things he still wasn't sure of.

Ghirahim had paranoid schizophrenia. Ghirahim believed that Zelda –who was one of the sweetest people Link had ever encountered- and her father were making plans to send him to an asylum. Which was ridiculous, as he and everyone else knew. And Ardaia had said it would be terrible for someone of Ghirahim's upbringing. His parents seemingly weren't involved with him, just this guardian that hired cars to take Ghirahim home.

It was all very confusing, no doubt about it. But maybe now that he knew more about him, Ghirahim would share some more about himself? Would he be a little less cold? There wasn't much chance of it happening, but Link decided he would try to be as optimistic as he could about this whole situation.

Which could be very difficult.

* * *

Pipit leaned back in his chair, his eyes alight with excitement.

"Today's the day," he said happily.

"At least now you'll shut up about it," Link replied, grinning at his friend. Pipit just rolled his eyes, too ecstatic to care.

Link felt the mobile phone vibrate in his pocket and frowned. He didn't know the exact reason for bringing it along -he and Pipit had never bothered with it in Howards- but it was here now. He hadn't expected any texts in the morning, but apparently this text-network was a twenty-four hour thing.

"Well, here we are," said Pipit, practically scrambling out of his seat. Link picked up his bag and followed Pipit off of the bus. He gave Zelda a wave as he passed her on the way to their base classroom, setting his bag down and dropping into his seat as soon as they arrived. Pipit did the same, but it wasn't long before he was repeatedly glancing at the clock.

"Fledge is usually here before us," Pipit noted with a frown. "You think he's out?"

"He could be at his locker," Link replied. He felt the phone vibrate again. Pipit stood up, hands on his hips, and nodded.

"I'll go and see. Give me a minute or two."

Link watched him leave, the door swinging shut behind his friend with a soft thud.

He pulled the phone from the pocket of his jeans and unlocked it. He found two new texts, one from Rynae and one from Ardaia.

'_Link, Ghirahim's really mad.'_ That was Rynae.

'_Link, I'm really sorry if I get you into trouble. Try to keep him calm, okay?' _Ardaia.

He was about to reply when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Link pocketed the phone before he looked up at Ghirahim, who was staring intently down at him. Link started to speak, ready to ask questions, but froze when he saw just how steely Ghirahim's stare was. Link really wished he'd answered those texts sooner.

"What's wrong?" he asked, trying to sound as relaxed as he could and failing. Ghirahim's expression never changed in the slightest. That, Link realised, was what scared him most about Ghirahim. His anger wasn't always ranting and raging. Mostly it was reserved, hidden behind a mask of serenity. Right now, though, the line between anger and relaxation was awfully blurred.

Link tried not to squirm when Ghirahim gripped Link's shoulder with a near-agonizing amount of pressure.

"What's wrong?" Ghirahim repeated softly. "You're asking me what's _wrong_?"

Link just blinked, afraid that whatever he said could set Ghirahim off like a bomb. "Ghirahim, I don't know what you're so-"

"So _paranoid_ about?" Ghirahim hissed, and Link felt himself tense up. From the corner of his eye, Link saw the other students casting anxious looks to where he was seated. Zelda wasn't anywhere in sight, and it was obvious Ghirahim wasn't finished. As if the situation weren't bad enough, Ghirahim actually grabbed the fabric of Link's green-check shirt in his fist and pulled the blond out of his seat. Link tried to make eye contact and ended up looking at a loose stitch on Ghirahim's hoodie.

Apparently, that wasn't enough. Ghirahim shook Link roughly, never letting go of his shoulder, and Link found himself meeting those dark eyes. Ghirahim had that wild look again, like when he'd imagined Gaepora catching him. But that time, it was Ghirahim who'd been afraid. Now all that was to be seen was harsh, unforgiving rage. Link was not ashamed to admit that it scared him to see eyes that were this crazed.

"Ghirahim," Link began, "I-I wasn't going to-"

"_Shut up,_" Ghirahim snarled, and Link was quick to obey. To his relief, he spotted Pipit entering with Fledge. Fledge looked like he was about to faint, but Pipit was almost as angry as Ghirahim. Link came close to smiling when he heard the sound of his friend's voice from the other side of the room.

"Ghirahim!" Pipit was already on his way over, fuming. "What the hell do you think you're doing to him?"

Ghirahim tore his gaze away from Link with a scowl, looking at Pipit over his shoulder. The brunet stopped in his tracks, still seething with anger but also appearing uncertain. Link could barely feel his shoulder at this point.

"Pipit, am I right?" Ghirahim asked, sounding completely uninterested. "Well, Pipit, you'd better not interfere. I don't think you'll be able to perform your best at today's basketball trials if I make a mess of your legs."

Ghirahim returned his attention to Link, digging his nails into Link's shoulder and drawing a sharp gasp from Link.

"You know, you look like you did on the first day," he whispered. Link tried to pull away when Ghirahim moved to whisper in his ear. All it did for him was cause his shoulder more discomfort.

"It's a _very_ nice look on you," Ghirahim breathed, his lips brushing Link's ear. Despite already knowing it was of no use, Link tried to wrestle Ghirahim's arm off of him, grabbing it with both hands and making an attempt at pushing the other teen away.

Ghirahim was barely affected aside from the slightest loosening of his fingers. He actually threw his head back and laughed.

"Do you really think you could win against _me_ in a fight, Link?" He lowered his voice before he spoke next. "Don't you remember what happened last time?"

Link tried to respond, but he was interrupted. Ghirahim made a noise of irritation when a hand tapped his shoulder, spinning and causing Link to stumble forward as he did.

"Just what kind of trouble are you causing now?" Zelda asked, arms folded and a furious expression on her face.

Instantly, Link's shoulder was released and he quickly put a metre between himself and Ghirahim. The pale teen looked like he was about to say something, but he didn't make a single move.

"I asked you a question," said Zelda. She took Link by the arm and stepped around him, leaving Ghirahim cornered. To Link, he seemed a lot smaller, though he still towered over them both.

"I _heard_ your question," he said, his hands in his pockets. Link had the feeling he was reaching for either his phone or some sort of pill.

"Zelda," Link said slowly, "it was nothing. Maybe we should get to-"

"Link," she cut him off. "I know Ghirahim better than you do. I know you don't want any trouble, but this has gone on long enough."

"What did you have in mind, Zelda?" Ghirahim asked, sneering. "Are _you_ going to fight me? You're funny. Or maybe you'll go running to your father. You'd _love_ that, wouldn't you? You'd love to be rid of me."

"We all would," Zelda replied. "Now, you-"

"Ghirahim!" yet another voice called. The teen in question looked about and his eyes rested on the classroom door. Link noticed the way the tension drained from Ghirahim. His eyes weren't so wide, and his hands were back at his sides.

"Owlan..." he said. Link turned to look, and found the Science teacher in the doorway, Pipit and Fledge standing close by.

"Ghirahim," he said, sounding as calm as ever. "Would you like to have a word with me in the laboratory?"

Ghirahim glared first at Owlan, then at Link and Zelda, and finally, back at Owlan. With an irritated sigh, he moved as gracefully as always to his seat in the back, picking up his bag, before making his way to the door. The students watched in silence as he walked, his head down and his hair covering his sour expression. Pipit and Fledge almost tripped each other up in their attempt to give him space. Owlan waved Ghirahim along, but he didn't follow. Instead, he beckoned for Link and Zelda to join him.

Zelda gave Link a wary look as they walked side by side to where Owlan waited. They followed him outside of the classroom and stood quietly while Owlan paced back and forth in front of them.

After a few moments of nothing being said, Zelda cleared her throat and gave Owlan a small smile.

"Sir, I don't mean to be rude, but the first class starts very soon, and-"

"What happened this morning?" Owlan asked, stopping in his tracks and facing the two students. Zelda looked to Link, who breathed out through his nose and addressed the teacher.

"This morning, Ghirahim was..." Link faltered, debating with himself. He was mad at Ghirahim for grabbing him like that, and he certainly didn't want Zelda finding out about the amount of time he'd been spending with Ghirahim and his friends. But when he tried to tell Owlan, he remembered everything Ardaia had told him yesterday, and stopped himself short.

"Link?" Zelda prompted.

"He was acting weird, is all," Link said, not looking at Zelda or Owlan. "I think he was angry about something."

Owlan nodded, lips pursed in thought. "I see. He didn't say anything strange?"

"Uh, nothing that I noticed," Link replied hastily, still unable to meet the gaze of the teacher.

"Professor, it needs to stop," Zelda said. "Ghirahim shouldn't be able to take his frustrations out on anyone he likes. What upsets him so much that he decides to lash out at other people?"

Owlan sighed, brushing a loose strand of hair from his forehead. "I would explain it to you, Zelda, but now is really not the time. I must go and talk to him. You two run along to class, now."

He left for his own classroom, and Zelda gave a huff of annoyance. "Honestly, you'd think that after three years, they'd have done something that would make Ghirahim stop."

"What was he like before now?" Link asked. "What did he do in his first two years?"

"What _didn't_ he do?" Zelda laughed dryly. "Spreading stories about murderers and all sorts of things, cornering students and beating them up. Sometimes he'd pretend he was their friend, and he'd load them up on alcohol, turn them into wasters. I always felt terrible for those people."

"After a while, though," said Link without thinking, "they'd just drink it because they wanted it."

"What?" Zelda asked, looking at Link like he'd gone mad.

"The more you have of it, the more you want," said Link, indirectly quoting Ghirahim. Zelda raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"You want to get to class, then?" Link asked, looking for any way to escape the awkward silence that had settled between them.

"Uh, sure," Zelda replied. The smile she offered him seemed strained, but Link did his best to act oblivious to the tension in the air.

**A/N: Ugh, lots of Ardaia in this chapter. Sorry about that. Either way I hope you all enjoyed it! Be sure to tell me what you thought!**


	13. Broken

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! Here is chapter thirteen. Again, I apologise for the irregular updates, but here's hoping you enjoy this! **

**Thank you to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading!**

**Also, trigger warning for those of you need it: mentions of vomiting and self-harm.**

"…and the High King- Oh, Zelda! Link!"

Gaepora stopped his talk on how the Normans attacked Ireland when he noticed the two students arriving in late. Link avoided the curious look Pipit gave him and focused on Gaepora.

"Owlan wanted to talk to us," he said. The History teacher frowned, his massive arms folded across his torso.

"I hope it was important enough for you two to miss the first ten minutes of class," he warned.

"It was very important," Zelda assured him. Link wasn't sure, but he thought he saw something pass between father and daughter. Whether it was the way they looked each other in the eye or Gaepora's slight nod, Link didn't know.

They seated themselves and opened their notebooks. Gaepora continued on with the lesson after a brief recap for Link and Zelda's benefit. But Link found it difficult to concentrate on King Dermot and his daughter when there were much more important questions to be answered.

"Zelda," he whispered. She turned to look at him expectantly, a small smile on her face.

"What is it?" she asked quietly, slowing her writing while she watched him.

"Can I ask you a question about Ghirahim?"

Zelda's writing came to a stop, and a wary expression replaced her relaxed one. Gaepora continued on, oblivious to their whispering.

"What's your question?" Zelda asked, glancing to her father and quickly taking down some more notes.

"Has he ever been in the same History class as you?"

"No," Zelda replied. "Why?"

"Just wondering. Has he been in Owlan's Science class every year?"

"He has Owlan for Science, Maths and History," Zelda informed him. "It's pretty much always been that way."

"Really? Why's that?"

"I don't think anyone really knows. No one's bothered to find out, I think. Some students even switched classes at the start of the year just so they wouldn't end up in the same class as him."

Link felt a pang of sympathy for Ghirahim, but he brushed it off quickly. Ghirahim was still the person who pushed him around and belittled him.

"Do you know if he's very clever?" Link asked. "Does he have any talents?"

Zelda looked a little suspicious about his questions, but she answered him anyway, tapping her pen in a steady rhythm against the edge of the desk.

"Ghirahim is _very_ clever," she said, looking as if she were regretting those words. "I'm not going to deny that. A lot of people think he cheats or something. But Karane thinks there's someone at home who wants him doing well in school. It's open to interpretation, I guess. As for talents-"

Gaepora glanced down at where they were seated, and Link began scribbling down snippets of information without thought, as did Zelda. When Gaepora seemed satisfied, Zelda continued with what she was saying.

"Aside from art, I'm not exactly sure what hobbies he has," she admitted. "As you know, he doesn't really let a lot of information about himself get loose."

Link nodded his understanding. He was about to return to taking notes when Zelda spoke up again.

"Link, what happened in the classroom this morning," she started, "are you..? I mean, are you okay? You weren't hurt or anything, were you?"

"No, no of course not," Link assured her quickly. "I don't think Ghirahim was trying to hurt me anyway."

The doubtful look Zelda sent his way was almost comical.

"Link, I'm not so sure you can believe that so easily," she said. She was gazing at him so intensely, Link found it increasingly difficult to meet her eye.

"Do you remember what I told you about Ghirahim on your first day? He makes people believe things about him. You can't let your guard down."

"What do you know about his friends?" Link asked her, at the same time copying down what Gaepora had to say about the Normans. "Ardaia, and Rynae?"

"Ardaia's in the grade above us," Zelda told him, glancing up at her father before she took down more notes. "And Rynae is one grade below us. He should be in our grade but he was held back after failing most of his exams. He and Ardaia are nearly always together. Between classes, before we start in the morning. And always tapping away at their phones, too. Just another two people that no one has any solid ideas about."

"How did Ghirahim get involved with them?" It was something he'd meant to ask Ardaia but had forgotten.

"Ardaia approached Ghirahim, I think," Zelda said with a frown. "On his first day. I can't remember exactly. And then Rynae fell in with them too. I never went out of my way to find out why."

"I see. Do you-?"

"Link," Zelda interrupted him with a small smile. "I know you're interested in figuring out as much as you can about Ghirahim, but it's not exactly a comfortable topic. I hope you understand. Plus, I think my father is getting suspicious of us."

Link smiled back softly, returning his full attention to what remained of the History class.

The bell rung after another ten minutes and Link got to his feet, putting his things away and throwing his bag over his shoulder. Gesturing to the door with a smile, he walked alongside Zelda to the Science laboratory.

As they approached the door, Zelda stopped Link with a hand on his arm and he glanced at her in question.

"Link," she begun, looking worried. "You're not... I mean, you'll be alright, won't you? After what happened this morning, sitting with Ghirahim could be, well..."

"I'll be fine," said Link, giving her a thumbs-up. "After all, I've gotten this far, right?"

Zelda smiled, laughing softly. "Yeah, I suppose so. I'll talk to you soon, then."

She joined Orielle at their desk near the front, and Link shuffled to his own seat. Ghirahim was already there, staring at nothing, it seemed.

Link sat down as quietly as he could, laid his Science textbook down and flicked his notebook open. He couldn't help throwing furtive glances toward Ghirahim, expecting some sort of outburst. But Ghirahim was just as quiet, placing his pens and notebooks precisely and saying nothing at all.

Link frowned when he noticed a dandelion puff and a blackbird's feather lying alongside Ghirahim's pens, a few of the dandelion's seeds missing. Ghirahim must have noticed him looking, because he cleared his throat pointedly and narrowed his eyes at Link, who immediately found new interest in his blue pen, twirling it between his fingers.

"Today, we will be talking about the structure of the plant and the different functions of each individual part," Owlan announced, tapping on his keyboard as he spoke. "So I would ask you to kindly pay attention to the presentation I'm about to show you."

The students chatted amongst themselves while Owlan set up his projector. Link and Ghirahim said absolutely nothing to each other; stony silence dominated the area. Link watched Ghirahim from the corner of his eye, tapping his pen lightly against the desk.

"Since you appear to be unusually interested in my things today," Ghirahim spoke up suddenly, "I'm going to assume you have some sort of idiotic question to ask me. Feel free to go ahead and ask. You already know everything else, anyway, so I suppose one more piece of information couldn't make things any worse than they are."

"Ghirahim," Link started. "Ardaia didn't-"

"I didn't tell you to speak about Ardaia," said Ghirahim. "I invited you to ask a question about the things on my desk."

"Fine then," Link muttered, opening his notebook to a new page and writing 'Plants' on top. He turned back to Ghirahim then, who was watching him with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. And a dozen other feelings, Link was sure.

"What are the feather and the flower for?" Link asked, pointing to them with his pen. "I doubt it's anything to do with this." He gestured to Owlan's presentation on plants.

"They're part of an... experiment," said Ghirahim. "Three fragile things that I can't allow harm to come to for as long as possible."

"There's only two things there," Link pointed out. "What's the third one?"

"The question was about the things sitting on my desk, if I remember correctly."

"You're very immature for your age," Link told him with a scowl. "Just tell me what the third object is, will you?"

"_I_ am not an _object_."

Link paused, momentarily caught off guard. He stopped tapping his pen against the desk, feeling himself come to a complete stop. Ghirahim glared at him, eyes narrowed in spite. Link noted the way he had wrapped his arms around his waist as he so often did.

Owlan frowned, glancing in their direction, and Link snapped out of his surprised state, quickly pretending to write down some information about the stem of a plant. The teacher watched him curiously for a moment before he continued with the lesson.

"It's ridiculous, of course," Ghirahim went on in a whisper, like he was ranting quietly. "Owlan's 'exercises' are so pointless it borders on hilarity."

He wrote as he spoke, glancing up at the projection now and then. Link had to admire how clear his writing was despite how elaborate and precise it appeared.

"Dandelion puffs are too delicate anyways," he declared. "You can barely move them without all those seeds flying off. You can't put feathers in a bag or they snap."

"And what about you?" Link asked carefully, knowing he was entering dangerous territory. "Why does Owlan think you're fragile?"

"I am _not_ fragile," Ghirahim snapped. "And I shouldn't be considered so, either."

"I'm not saying you are," Link said. "I'm just asking why Owlan thinks you are."

"Why don't you ask Owlan?" Ghirahim could deny it all he liked, but he was on edge and Link knew it.

"Because I want to hear what you have to say," he replied, and Ghirahim's jaw clenched.

"I don't have anything to say about it," he said, his eyes eerily distant.

"You are such a _child_, do you know that?" Link demanded, fighting to keep his voice down. At this point, Link didn't care what kind of hole he was digging himself. He was furious at Ghirahim's stubbornness, his arrogance. Ghirahim watched him, contemplating.

"A child?" he echoed. "You think I'm a child?"

"Well, you're definitely treated like one," Link retorted. "And you act like one most of the time."

Ghirahim expression was one of shock and disgust. Livid, he shot right out of his seat, dropping his pen to the floor. The students -and Owlan- stopped what they were doing to stare in open astonishment.

Link, on the other hand, had abandoned his work and turned in his seat to face Ghirahim, unsure of whether to be outraged or frightened.

"You think _I'm_ treated like a _child_?!" Ghirahim snarled, his hands clenched tightly into fists.

Before Link knew what he was to say in response, he was standing, glaring up at Ghirahim while the other fixed him with a murderous expression.

"Yes!" Link yelled, far too annoyed to care about what he said. "What kind of sixteen-year-old can't take the _bus_? Are your problems so big that you can't use public transport like the rest of us?"

Ghirahim appeared lost for words, but his expression darkened. Without warning, he grabbed Link by the wrist, pulling him forward so his words reached only Link. Owlan was up now, his hands fumbling to find something on his desk.

"Ghirahim," he called, frantic. "You need to calm down and-!"

"Be _quiet_, old man," Ghirahim cut across him. Owlan's lips parted in surprise. Link doubted Ghirahim had ever insulted the professor outright. Ghirahim turned back to Link, his silver-white hair still hiding one eye. How he managed to look that menacing with only half of his face visible was beyond Link's understanding.

"Don't you _dare_ mention anything about the way I live in this classroom," he hissed. "You think you know everything about me, Link, don't you? Here's some news for you -you haven't got a _clue_. So do yourself a favour and-"

Link waited for Ghirahim to finish, but he'd gone deathly silent. His dark eyes had left Link's and were locked on the laboratory door; he hardly blinked. His grip loosened slightly and Link slowly pulled his wrist away, watching Ghirahim with a frown. The other teen didn't react at all, just continued to stare at the red-painted wood as if nothing else existed.

Owlan was observing Ghirahim's sudden silence with apprehension. The students sat stunned, fascinated by what was happening. Zelda's expression was solemn, determined and puzzled all at once. But Ghirahim was looking at something else entirely, and Link knew that whatever he saw wasn't there at all. His gloved hands were shaking at his sides, his thin lips were parted slightly, and his dark eyes looked fearful.

"I-I'm sorry," he breathed. Despite the anger he'd felt earlier, Link couldn't help the wave of empathy that threatened to overwhelm him. Seeing Ghirahim scared was something he simply couldn't get used to seeing.

"Ghirahim," he said softly, trying to bring him back to reality. But Ghirahim wasn't listening, completely oblivious to everyone in the room. He looked even paler than usual, if that were possible. He looked like he was going to be sick.

"Ghirahim, this isn't real," Owlan said gently, moving forward cautiously. "It might feel real, but trust me when I say that it's not."

Ghirahim shook his head, taking a small step back.

"Please," he whispered, straining. One hand found the wooden desk behind him, and held onto it with a vice-like grip. "Please don't... I'm sorry, I didn't-"

"Ghirahim!" Link called. "It's not real. You have to listen to me."

But now, Ghirahim was even more panicked, almost hysterically so.

"I-I've been studying!" he was saying. "I practise every day, like you tell me to!"

Link wanted to help, felt the need to, but he had no idea who Ghirahim thought he was talking to. A parent, maybe? This guardian that Ardaia had talked about?

Owlan had dropped whatever he'd been looking for and was striding the length of the classroom. Ghirahim had reached the back wall, trapped. Every student had their eyes on him. Link was expecting more persuasive talk from the professor, some calming words.

What he didn't expect was for Owlan to slap Ghirahim across the face.

Everyone in the room reacted in different ways. Pipit shot up like a bullet, looking outraged. Acts of open violence had always set Pipit off. Groose made a startled noise, sitting up a little straighter to get a clearer view of what was happening. Karane clapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Even Zelda seemed surprised, though she hadn't made a move.

Link was speechless, literally. Not once had he ever seen a teacher hurt a student like that. Howards, brutal as it had been, was not a place where teachers attacked the students. It was unheard of, something that just didn't happen.

Ghirahim looked neither angry nor surprised. If anything, he seemed accepting. Calmer, not so shaky.

"Owlan..." Link started. "Can you..? I mean, are you..?"

"Thank you..." said Ghirahim, sounding absolutely exhausted. He sagged against the poster-covered wall with a sigh and Owlan steadied him, placing his hands on Ghirahim's shoulders.

"Ghirahim," he said firmly, ignoring the worried expressions of the teens in the laboratory. "Are you alright?"

Ghirahim's penetrating gaze flickered to Link, who stared back blankly, before returning to Owlan. Shrugging out of the older man's grip, he walked briskly to his desk, and Link quickly stepped to the side and let him pass. His eyes downcast, Ghirahim scooped up his books, lifted his bag and shot another glare at Link.

"Lunchtime," he said quietly. "I expect to see you there."

Before Link could respond, Ghirahim had turned away and was making for the laboratory's door. He flung it open, eyes scanning the class once more. And then the door slammed, and he was gone.

For a few minutes, silence dominated the room. Nothing but the steady hum of Owlan's laptop and the shifting of feet interrupted. Owlan cleared his throat loudly, and some of the students jumped where they sat. Pipit returned to his seat, still looking wary of Owlan. No doubt, everyone in the class was a little on edge.

"If it's alright with all of you," the professor said after a moment, "I'm going to go and see where he's gone to. For now, you can, err... Just talk quietly amongst yourselves. Hopefully I won't take too long."

He walked rigidly to the classroom door, gave the class a curt nod, and left. Instantly, excited chatter started up amongst the students.

"What was _that_ all about?" Karane asked.

"I knew that Ghirahim guy was out of his mind," Groose stated, turning in his seat to face the rest of the class. His yellow-brown eyes found Link and he smirked. "And now, poor Link is missing his new boyfriend!"

"Give it a rest, Groose," said Zelda.

Link could feel his face warming up, but he faced Groose with as much determination as he could find in himself right then.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, and even though he knew what he was saying could lead to disaster, he kept going. "I hate Ghirahim. Just like all of you. I can't stand him."

"Oh, sure," Groose rolled his eyes. "You say that now, but we all saw you with Owlan, trying to help! Get your story straight, Link."

Link could feel Zelda watching him –and most students seated close by- and tried to keep himself from snapping at Groose. He had to admit, though, that Groose had a point. It was hard to convince a group of people you hated someone when you also felt obliged to help them recover.

So he ended up simply saying, "Shut up."

Groose grinned, satisfied and triumphant. Zelda shook her head in disapproval of the redhead's attitude, and Link stared intently at his textbook, refusing to acknowledge anyone. After a moment of incredibly uncomfortable silence, the bell rung. Still chatting animatedly amongst themselves, the students made their way out in twos and threes. Pipit joined Link at his desk, waiting for his friend to pack away his things. Link noticed him frowning at the laboratory's tiled floor, and frowned.

"What's up?" he asked. Pipit didn't look up, seemingly confused.

"Are they… _seeds_?" he wondered. Link leaned over the desk to see what he was talking about, and winced when he found the tiny seeds of Ghirahim's dandelion puff scattered all over the place. His eyes returned to the desk and fell on the stem, lying abandoned where Ghirahim had left it. One delicate item had broken.

"Guess so," Link said simply as they made for the door. "Want to go get something to eat, then?"

"You want to explain what happened today?"

Link blinked, unsure of how to go about answering. "My guess is as good as yours, Pipit; I don't know what it was about. I was just trying to help him."

"You were trying to help _Ghirahim_?" Pipit asked, looking extremely doubtful.

"Yeah," Link said slowly, shutting the door behind him before they started down the hallway. "You're always running around after people too, Pip. This isn't much different."

"Well, all I'll say is that it's only encouraging Groose to keep teasing you."

"I swear, Pipit, there's no reason for him to be doing it anyway. Nothing happened between me and Ghirahim, and nothing _will_."

"You don't need to be so uptight about it," Pipit told him, one eyebrow raised.

"You're the one who keeps bringing him up!" Link countered. Pipit slowed his pace, his expression a mixture of irritation and worry.

"All _I'm_ doing is looking out for you, Link," he said. "You're my best friend, like a brother to me, and I want you to be happy."

"So, I'm supposed to treat your interrogation as you looking out for me? I'll be sure to make a note of that."

Pipit came to a complete stop, and Link spun on his heel, whirling to face his friend. Pipit had his hands on his hips, something he'd always done when he was frustrated or puzzled.

"Why the hell are you in such an awful mood?" he demanded. Link was acting ridiculous and immature, he knew it, but he was so sick of everything that an argument just felt good to him.

"I am not in an 'awful mood,'" he snapped. "But I'm headed towards one, thank you very much."

Pipit looked offended, shocked and furious all at once. He glared at his friend with such force it was an effort for Link to make eye contact.

"Well, if you're going to act like a spoiled child, I'm not putting up with it," Pipit seethed. "Either sort yourself or find somewhere else to go, Link. I don't feel like dealing with this right now."

Pipit stormed off, rounding a corner and never looking back at his friend. Link was left alone in the hallway with those last words ringing in his ears. He ran a hand through his hair, agitated. With a noise that was neither a growl nor an aggravated sigh, he followed his friend's lead, stamping his way into the front hall.

"You idiot," he muttered to himself. "Chasing away your friends. That's _just_ what you needed."

He stopped walking abruptly, and grimaced. This wasn't _his_ fault. No, it most certainly wasn't. Only one person was responsible for dragging him into this mess. And despite the sympathy he'd felt for him not too long ago, Link was livid with anger for Ghirahim now.

He kicked open the double doors and began jogging, directing his energy into reaching the one place he knew Ghirahim would be. Ignoring his heavy breathing, he kept on, turning every right corner along the familiar path. His hands balled into fists, his blood pumping through his body at an amazing speed, he turned the last corner.

"You are an absolute _bastard_!" Link yelled, not caring that his voice cracked as he spoke. He threw his bag to the ground, closing the distance between himself and the one he was ranting to. "I hate you! I _HATE_ you!"

Ghirahim sat on one of the two dumpsters, his arms wrapped around his knees and his hair hiding his expression from view. Ardaia and Rynae were nowhere to be seen. It was only when Ghirahim lifted his head to stare at the new arrival that Link actually took in what was going on.

Ghirahim's face was paper white, his eyes looking almost black in comparison. The purple bags under his eyes only seemed more prominent. His hands trembled ever so slightly, and he had the look of someone who'd been running for hours on end. His lips were parted, and Link faltered when he saw that Ghirahim's usually pearly teeth looked yellowed.

Then the smell of vomit hit him, and nearly sent him reeling backwards, it was so strong. Link looked down at the ground and flinched at the mess that had been made. Returning his gaze to Ghirahim's, he forgot about all of his rage from before.

"What did you do?" he asked, and Ghirahim laughed bleakly, following it up with a cough.

"I get _sick_ sometimes," he answered. His voice was not nearly as smooth as it always had been, sounding gravelly and raw. "This is one of those times, I suppose. You're early, you know. Anyway, I believe you were about to continue. Do go on."

Link shook his head, both appalled and confused. His eyes narrowed in on Ghirahim's hand and he frowned.

"What are you holding?" he asked. Ghirahim looked down at him with eyes full of sorrow and regret. Link watched the blackbird feather fall to the ground, landing without a sound at Link's feet. Only now it was ruffled, and the bone was snapped in a way that it was left barely hanging on.

"I failed Owlan's test," Ghirahim said dully. "It wasn't going to work anyway."

For a minute, Link racked his mind in an effort to come up with something that might comfort him, but then remembered something else.

"You haven't failed," he said. "You're part of the test, right? You haven't let yourself be harmed."

Ghirahim didn't respond.

"You _haven't_, have you?" Link persisted.

Ghirahim turned so that he faced Link fully, lifting both hands, and Link gasped at what he saw. Ghirahim, for once, wasn't wearing his gloves, but Link almost wished he was. Ghirahim's hands were stained red, the blood dried up and hardened. Link knew the cuts on his palms were from fingernails, and they hadn't sealed up properly yet.

"I failed," Ghirahim said softly, his voice wavering. Link stared back at him in horror.

"Why did you…?" Link was lost for words. The thought of someone doing that to themselves –intentionally- was foreign, alien, for lack of a better word. "Why would you do that?"

Ghirahim didn't answer, straightening his legs and staring at his hands as if he'd never seen them before.

"Ghirahim," Link pressed. "Why did you _do_ that?"

"Because I'm broken," Ghirahim whispered, so quietly Link fought to hear him properly.

"Broken?" he echoed. "I don't-"

"I'm _broken_!" Ghirahim shouted suddenly, and Link jumped. Ghirahim pounded a bloodied fist against the dumpster, his face twisted into a snarl.

"Ghirahim-!"

"Broken!" he repeated. "I'm sick and I'm imperfect and I am _broken_!"

He ran a hand through his white strands, drops of blood colouring them. Again, he slammed his fist against the lid.

"Ghirahim," Link tried again. "Listen to-"

"I'm weak and I'm unstable and I am broken! I _hate_ it! I hate this broken body! I hate this broken mind! _All_ of it!"

Link froze when he saw tears beginning to stream down Ghirahim's face, over his diamond tattoo. He shook almost violently, shivering uncontrollably. He didn't say anything, but his eyes were pleading for Link to do something, anything at all.

Walking carefully to avoid stepping in what Ghirahim had forced up, Link made his way to the front of the dumpster. Placing one foot on a ridge in the plastic surface, he hooked a hand around the edge of the lid and pulled himself –rather ungracefully- on top of it.

Shuffling over a little at a time, he positioned himself next to Ghirahim, who was watching him anxiously. Link paused for a split second, sighed, and proceeded to slowly wrap one arm around Ghirahim's shoulders, curling his fingers into the fabric of his hoodie.

"What are you doing..?" Ghirahim asked quietly, squirming a little.

"I don't know," Link replied honestly. "I'm not very good at comforting people."

"I'm quite bad at it myself. Another imperfection."

Link watched his feet swinging in no particular rhythm, not exactly glaring at them but not looking happy either.

"There's nothing wrong with not being perfect," Link said.

"I wished everyone thought the way you do, Link," Ghirahim said, covering his mouth to muffle a cough that racked his small frame.

"I have a feeling the world would be a pretty uneventful place if they did," Link muttered.

"Why is that?"

"I don't think about a lot of things."

"I bet that's nice."

"… Are we just going to sit here?" Link asked. "Sit here and do nothing for an hour?"

"It's not my usual way of going about things," said Ghirahim, "but I won't say no."

Link shrugged, allowing himself to relax a little. Well, as much as it was possible when he was surrounded by the smell of vomit and blood, with an arm around one of the most troubled people he'd ever met.

But, he felt Ghirahim relax under his touch. His shivers dissipated as he began to take long, steady breaths. His eyes were still on the palms of his hands, but he was far more relaxed.

And if someone like him could be this calm, Link was sure he could do it too.


	14. Making Arrangements

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! Here we are at Chapter Fourteen! I apologise for even more irregular updates. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it! Enjoy!**

After five minutes of sitting in the same position without any words being exchanged, Link was beginning to think he might go mad.

"Ghirahim," he said softly. The pale teen stirred slightly under his touch, shifting his gaze to meet Link's. One thin eyebrow was raised, his eyes curious.

"Yes?" he replied, his voice just as soft and sounding raw.

"Um..." Link trailed off when he realised he didn't really have anything to say. "I don't know."

Ghirahim smiled a thin smile, lacing his hands together.

"You always _did_ have a way with words," he remarked dryly. Link couldn't help smiling back.

"Ghirahim," he repeated. "Talk about something."

"Like what?" Ghirahim asked. Link shrugged one shoulder.

"Anything," he said. "What're your hobbies? What's your house look like? Just talk about something."

Ghirahim coughed loudly, lifting a hand to cover his mouth, before he responded. "Hobbies... I like to play the piano; if that's the kind of thing you're talking about. And the violin, and the flute. There are others too, but those three are my favourites."

"You play three instruments?" Link asked, eyebrows raised.

"More than three," Ghirahim corrected. "Seven in total."

"Wow."

"What baffles me is that you don't play _any_. I could easily see you playing something like a flute. A harp, even."

"We can't afford it," Link told him. "Mallara has enough on her plate."

"I forgot you lived with Pipit. Is it difficult?"

"Why would it be difficult? Pipit's great."

"Hm. I'm an only child, so sharing a house isn't exactly the top priority."

"Is your house small?"

"My house is definitely not small," Ghirahim commented wryly. "It's far too big for what can only be a handful of people."

"Who?" Link asked. "Your mother? What's she like?"

"My mother," Ghirahim began with a genuine smile, "is a wonderful and very beautiful woman. I don't look an awful lot like her, though."

"What does she look like, then?" Link asked. Ghirahim's mother seemed to be a well-liked topic, judging by how suddenly content Ghirahim appeared to be.

"Her hair is quite long," Ghirahim said. "Nearly all the way down her back. She loves it, brushes it all the time to keep it right. Her hair is like yours, in terms of colour. Blonde-brown, sort of. Pale skin is all I received from her, I think. Her eyes are wide, green ones. They were stunning."

Link sat awestruck at the way Ghirahim was able to describe things in such detail; and also at how much happier Ghirahim looked when he talked about his mother.

"She sounds lovely," he told Ghirahim, and he meant it too. "She sounds like a very lovely woman."

Ghirahim seemed surprised by that remark, shooting a wondering glance toward Link. He stared down at his hands again, and Link noticed how suddenly solemn he'd become.

"I haven't seen her in a long time," Ghirahim said sadly. "She's hospitalised. Because she was so young when she had me, she never got to go to college or do anything worthwhile. So I have to do all that in her place."

"Why haven't you seen her?" Link asked. "Aren't you able to visit her?"

Ghirahim shook his head. "No, I'm not."

"Doesn't your father let you?"

"My father-" Ghirahim stopped himself short and glanced at Link again. "Why do _you_ want to know?"

Link felt Ghirahim recoil from under his hand, and removed his hand. The look of suspicion and accusation on Ghirahim's face was not what he wanted to see at all. He'd seen too much of it lately. From Pipit, who was his closest friend, from Zelda, and now from Ghirahim.

"I was just asking you a question," he said. But Ghirahim was retreating, and when he reached the edge of the dumpster, he slid off without hesitation. Baffled, Link followed him, landing in a half-crouch in front of Ghirahim. The taller teen's expression was betrayed, to say the least. His arms were back around his torso, and Link knew he'd definitely crossed some sort of line.

"Oh, what a _fool_ I am," Ghirahim spat. "I blame myself."

"Ghirahim," Link started, "there's no reason for you to be like this. I just asked you a simple-!"

"I knew it!" Ghirahim cut him off. "I _saw_ it but I brushed it off like an idiot!"

"What?" Link demanded, exasperated. "What did you see?"

"Right from the start, you were always following _Zelda_ around," Ghirahim snarled. "And what's funny is that at first, I thought it was just a stupid infatuation like everyone else. But I have no doubts about it now. Telling her _everything_, every detail you could find and-!"

"This is ridiculous!" Link interrupted. "You think that I'm spying on you or something?"

Ghirahim looked like he was about to continue, but stopped himself again and lifted a hand to his forehead, his lips parted in a mixture of shock and horror.

"Oh, _no_," he breathed. "Oh, how could I be so _stupid_?!"

Link just watched him, wordless, waiting for Ghirahim to continue.

"You," Ghirahim jabbed a finger at Link. "You went to her house."

Link just shook his head, having no clue how to answer. "Um, yeah, I did."

In a half-second, Link was slammed against the side of the dumpster, his shoes skidding along the ground as he was forced back. Ghirahim's eyes were trained solely on his, harsh and enraged. The distance between them was practically non-existent, Ghirahim's quick breaths racing over Link's skin. And of course, his strong hands were pressed tight against Link's shoulders, pinning him so he couldn't move.

"You told them everything," Ghirahim accused. "I _know_ you did."

"Ghirahim, I didn't know _anything_ about you when I went to visit Zelda," Link protested. "How could I have told them anything?"

"And this weekend," Ghirahim kept on, ignoring Link. His expression seemed to change multiple times in a mere second. "This weekend you're going to go and meet them again, aren't you?"

"Zelda and I are just going to see a movie," Link insisted. "I don't plan on saying anything to her about you."

"You're just-"

"No, I'm _not_ 'just saying that,'" Link told him. "Do you know how many lies I've told to my friends just to keep you out of the picture? Pipit isn't talking to me because of what happened in Science today. Fledge probably doesn't want to go near me either. Groose is making a point of tormenting me because you kissed me. All this is happening to me because, instead of _reporting_ you, I'm keeping your stupid secrets."

"Why?" Ghirahim asked. "How do I know you're not lying?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" Link replied. "I came right away because Pipit –my best friend- didn't want to be around me. And I doubt I'd be able to saunter over to Keet and Kina and have lunch with them. And I sure as hell am not coming within ten feet of Groose."

"So you came here," said Ghirahim. "To see me?"

"…Yeah," Link muttered. "I guess so."

Ghirahim took his hand away, watching Link with interest. "… I see."

Link moved to brush a strand of hair from his face but found himself pressed against the dumpster once more.

"What now?" he demanded. Ghirahim took a deep breath before he responded.

"I'm not sure that I fully believe you," Ghirahim said, and Link groaned.

"_Seriously_? What do you-?"

"If you really want to prove that you're not lying to me," Ghirahim began, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. "Then spend the night in my house this Friday."

Link stared at Ghirahim for what felt like an hour. The pale teen returned his gaze, eyes glimmering slightly despite how distraught he'd been earlier.

"... You want me to stay over in your house?" Link asked, and Ghirahim nodded. "This Friday?"

"It'd be fun," he said cheerfully. "You could bring one of your precious video games with you, or we could cook something -though I'll tell you now that you shouldn't expect anything _too_ extraordinary. We'll have fun."

Link was about to reply when the sound of two familiar voices approached.

"All I'm saying is that Thor is _clearly_ the best Avenger," Ardaia was saying.

"Are you forgetting the Hulk?" Rynae asked. "He could crush you with his bare hands. With _one_ of them, actually."

"Thor is a god, Rynae. Like me."

Link had no doubt Rynae was about to respond with some sort of sly remark, but they both came to an immediate halt when they rounded the corner and spotted Ghirahim with Link.

"Are we interrupting?" Ardaia asked, raising an eyebrow, and Rynae punched his arm.

"What is that smell?" Rynae asked, glancing around and lifting his eyebrows when he found the mess Ghirahim had made earlier. "Uh… Ghirahim? Were you sick?"

Ghirahim just turned away from Link to smile excitedly at his friends. Ardaia was smiling back tentatively, and Rynae looked extremely concerned.

"Link's staying in my house this Friday," he announced gleefully. Link pushed himself away from the dumpster, instantly denying the statement.

"Hey, I didn't actually-"

"That's _great_!" Ardaia yelled, holding up a hand for Ghirahim to high-five. Ghirahim did so, grinning at the redhead. It seemed the worry from before had vanished entirely. Rynae looked absolutely delighted for Ghirahim

"Guys," Link tried, "I never agreed to-"

"What are you guys going to do anyway?" Rynae asked.

"We're just going to have a little fun," Ghirahim replied. Rynae's jaw dropped at that statement, and Ardaia looked as if he was fighting back a squeal.

"Are you _serious_?!" he asked, and Link frowned at him.

"What's your problem?"

Rynae was shaking his head, a small smile on his lips. "We just... didn't think you two would get it on so _quickly_, is all."

"Link and Ghirahim, doing the naughty!" Ardaia practically sang. He collapsed into a fit of giggles, and Rynae wasn't long joining him. Link caught on to what they were suggesting pretty quickly, as did Ghirahim. The other teen gave his friends a rueful grin, while Link was making a valiant effort in trying not to blush.

"We're not going to have _sex_, you idiots," Ghirahim told the others, though it didn't stop them from laughing.

"You guys are crazy," Link informed them with a scowl. "Besides, I haven't actually agreed to stay. This is _very_ sudden notice, you know."

"But you will, won't you?" Ghirahim asked, looking genuinely hopeful. Ardaia and Rynae were watching Link too, expectant. After a long moment of silence, Link sighed in defeat.

"I suppose I could _try_ and sort something out," he muttered. He was met with an overjoyed response. Ardaia had already pulled him in for a one-armed hug, and Rynae was grinning delightedly, standing by Ghirahim's side. The snowy-haired teenager was smiling too, and to Link, it looked as though his cheeks were a little redder than usual. He didn't think someone like Ghirahim was one to blush, though.

Ardaia let go of Link and swung his rucksack from his shoulders, rummaging around for some wine. He stopped in the middle of his search, scrunching his nose up.

"Ghirahim, that smell is an abomination," he declared. "But we'll clean it up later and spray this place with a whole bottle of air freshener, don't you worry. For now, though, let's put up with it and celebrate!"

He jumped onto the dumpster and Rynae landed next to him not a second later. Ghirahim perched himself neatly beside the dark-haired teen while Ardaia went about filling glasses.

"Do you plan on standing there and watching us?" Rynae asked with an amused smile.

Link glanced over his shoulder, thinking quietly to himself while the others waited for an answer.

His initial thought was that he should go back and find Pipit so he could apologise for the way he'd behaved. He should talk to Zelda about Ghirahim and explain what was really going on. But when he turned to look at Ghirahim's welcoming smile, a wine glass in each hand, he found he didn't really want to leave right then.

So he said, "Of course not." Refusing the offer of being helped up, he placed his foot where the ridge in the plastic was and pulled himself up. He took the wine glass from Ghirahim -who had already put his gloves back on- and observed the red-orange substance for a moment.

"You know, Link," Rynae said from Ghirahim's other side, "you might find drinking the wine to be a _little_ more enjoyable if you tried to do it willingly."

Link just nodded, holding the glass at the level of his eye and swilling the wine around. With a sense of resignation, he took a gulp. The wine was sweet, not quite what he'd expected but not exactly unpleasant.

"What's the verdict?" Ardaia asked, taking a sip of his own drink.

"It's... alright," Link said. "Not the nicest."

"You want some rosé?"

"Uh... Sure."

Ghirahim looked as excited as Link had ever seen him, handing over a different glass to Link.

"Drink it with a smile," Ghirahim ordered, as he took the other glass. "Think of something that makes you happy."

Link tried to think of something and was surprised when he found it to be a little difficult at first. So he chose to think about how happy Fledge had been when Pipit and Link introduced themselves to him. And he lifted the tall glass and downed half of it in one go.

Ghirahim's eyebrows were raised, his expression a mixture of amusement and surprise.

"Well _that_ worked better than I thought it would," he remarked. He took a sip of the drink he'd taken. Link laughed dryly.

"Glad to hear it."

"You want a cigarette?" Rynae asked. He was already lighting one, and handed it to Ardaia with a smile. The other took it between two fingers and returned the smile. Ghirahim just rolled his eyes.

"You two are like something from a movie," he admonished, shaking his head. "A _bad_ one, too."

"Well then you and Link must be something else altogether," Rynae snickered. Link flushed red, glaring at the dark-haired teen as Ardaia tried to hide his laughter with a cough.

"It's nothing at all," Link muttered into his glass, taking a drink to cool his flaming cheeks.

"If _only_ we'd gotten to see that first kiss," Ardaia sighed. Rynae grinned, passing a cigarette to Link, who took it hesitantly.

"Don't you know how bad this stuff is for you?" Link asked, trying to divert attention from himself and Ghirahim. It proved to be futile, though, because Ardaia and Rynae were making an effort to provoke the two of them. And Ghirahim wasn't exactly trying to stop them, either.

"We should have recorded it," Rynae said wistfully. "I bet it was romantic."

"As if Ghirahim knows _anything_ about romance," Ardaia laughed. Ghirahim scowled at him.

"Well, I can assure you that it was far more romantic than you and _your_ little partner could ever hope to be."

Ardaia scoffed loudly, waving his cigarette about as he spoke. "Excuse you, Mr I Know Everything, but on Valentine's Day last year, Rynae and I-"

"Had a nice _dinner_ together," Rynae cut him off, speaking through his teeth. Ardaia raised one eyebrow and Rynae glared back at him. Meanwhile, Link had finished his drink and was feeling a little less embarrassed -and a little more unsteady- than before. Ghirahim made a 'hmph' sound as he drained his own glass.

"Have some Syrah, Link," Ardaia suggested. Link found he barely gave the decision a thought, taking the glass and ignoring the cigarette. Ghirahim took one too and leaned back, lying flat against the lid. He tipped the wine glass up and drank it so quickly Link thought he might choke. But he didn't, just stared up at the clouds with a bored expression, his eyes dull.

"Nothing like wine to cloud the senses," he said. "Light me a cigarette, Rynae. Link, yours is going to shrivel up if you don't take action."

Link grimaced, lifting up the cigarette to the level of his eye. He found himself wondering what Zelda would think, what Pipit or Mallara would think. But -and he didn't know if it was entirely because of the wine- he brushed it off and held the cigarette to his lips.

He took a drag and immediately began coughing, his body rejecting the smoke. Rynae sniffed as a way of showing his distaste. Link just shook his head, lowering the cigarette. Rynae took it from him and began smoking, making rings with the smoke as he exhaled. He leaned back like Ghirahim had, one arm folded behind his mop of hair.

Link took a long drink of the Syrah, hoping it would stop him from coughing. Ardaia was drinking his too, as smoothly as always. He set down his glass and offered Link a smile.

"What's your favourite colour, Link?" he asked. Link blinked at him, surprised at the question.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Just wondering, is all. Mine's yellow, just so you know. Like, the sun."

Link took another sip of his wine, swallowing it slowly.

"Green for me."

"You know, Link," Ghirahim spoke up, "I think red would look rather nice on you."

"Red?" Link asked. He didn't think he even owned anything that was red. "Really?"

"Definitely," Ghirahim said, nodding. "You should wear something red tomorrow so we can see what it looks like."

Link just rolled his eyes. He honestly couldn't remember if he had anything red at home, he was so used to wearing green shirts. Pipit usually stuck to yellow, too.

Ghirahim held himself up with his elbows, still watching the grey-ish sky. He turned to Ardaia, looking as if he were trying to remember something.

"I left one of my books in your house yesterday," he said. "Can I call over later and get it back?"

Ardaia frowned. Link watched as he shot a questioning glance to Rynae before answering Ghirahim, who was waiting patiently for a response.

"Ghirahim," Ardaia said slowly. "You weren't in my house yesterday."

Ghirahim seated himself properly, frowning. His eyes were confused and full of doubt.

"I was," he insisted. "The three of us were in your bedroom, and I put a book down on your bedside table."

Rynae shook his head, looking sympathetic. "You didn't. Neither of us went to Ardaia's."

Ghirahim turned to face him, too, ignoring Link for the moment. "Yes, I did. The Science textbook Owlan let me borrow. 'Discovering Science'. I _distinctly_ remember putting it down there."

Link was silent while he watched the conversation, taking small sips from his near-empty glass. He could feel himself becoming less alert and more dimmed down, but he was thirsty.

"Ghirahim, _I_ wasn't even at home yesterday," Ardaia told the white-haired teen. "I was at the Bazaar."

Ghirahim looked as if he were about to deny that, but his face smoothened out and something seemed to dawn on him.

"Oh," he said quietly. "That's right." He laughed, but the sound was forced. "Clearly, whatever drinks you've been offering us today are strong ones."

Ardaia still looked uncertain, as did Rynae. But he just shrugged, and simply said, "Whatever you say."

Link glanced to each of them, puzzled, but received no explanation at all. Eventually Ardaia sighed, and held up another bottle.

"Anyone up for another drink?"

"I've had enough," Link told him, handing back his emptied glass –which he didn't actually remember finishing. "More than enough; I can feel a headache coming on."

"Just a small drink for me," Rynae said. "I'm not about to fail a test for the third time this _week_."

"Oh, please," Ardaia replied, rolling his eyes. "You were never good at trigonometry anyways."

Ghirahim had gone strangely silent, staring blankly into space. Link shook him lightly by the shoulder and he was met with Ghirahim's troubled gaze.

"I need to see Owlan," he said quickly. Ardaia and Rynae were like blurs as they went about packing away wine glasses and bottles into Ardaia's rucksack, hopping down onto the ground and offering a hand to Ghirahim. The pale teen shook his head, though, pushing himself off and landing as neatly as he always did.

"You two needn't trouble yourselves," he said. "Link can take me. Actually, would you try and clean this place up a bit?"

Ardaia and Rynae seemed uncertain about Ghirahim's request. They exchanged curious glances with each other before they looked to Link, and then back to Ghirahim.

"Are you sure?" Rynae asked him. Ghirahim nodded, a small smile on his face.

"I am," he replied. "With any luck I'll be just a few minutes. Please just clean-up for me."

Ardaia's sigh was one filled with regret, but he smiled back. "Okay then."

Link was watching all of this in bleary-eyed confusion, feeling distantly worried but more lightheaded than anything. He moved to push himself off of the dumpster but was stopped by Ardaia's firm hands. He blinked, and was startled when Ardaia lifted him with hardly any effort, setting him down gently next to Ghirahim.

"Be careful, Link," he said. "Neither of you look too good. Get to Owlan as quick as you can, though, okay?"

"I don't remember agreeing to do this either," Link remarked sarcastically, his words a little slurred.

"Please bring him," Rynae said. "It'd be a _huge_ help."

Link glanced to Ghirahim, who had his dark-eyed gaze on Link, looking him up and down. After a moment, Link gave in, not seeing much point in disagreeing now.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go."

"Thanks, Link," Ardaia said. He took a step forward and kissed Link's cheek before doing the same with Ghirahim, who smiled faintly. Rynae repeated the same action before returning to Ardaia's side.

Ghirahim wasted no time with good-byes, taking off around the corner and leaving Link to catch up to him, almost stumbling alongside the taller teen.

"Why do you need to go to Owlan all of a sudden?" Link asked. Ghirahim was striding along with the air of a king, and Link had no idea how he managed it.

"I think I'm going to be sick again," Ghirahim said. "And I need to talk to him."

"About what?"

"Don't you know how _rude_ it is to pry into other people's business the way you are?"

Link flinched at the severity in his tone.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I just thought we were on good terms."

Ghirahim broke stride for a half-second, but he regained composure so quickly it was hard to tell if he'd really paused at all. He wore a puzzled expression, something Link wasn't quite used to seeing.

"Good terms," Ghirahim repeated. "You mean we're friends?"

This time it was Link who stopped, nearly tripping over himself. Ghirahim tried to hide a snicker and failed.

"Friends?" Link echoed. Ghirahim nodded, an amused half-smile lighting his face.

"Why not?" he asked.

"Because… Well, you're…"

Ghirahim slowed, waiting for Link to finish. "Because I'm what?"

Link opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped himself from saying anything. What he'd been about to say was that Ghirahim was not like his other friends. Ghirahim was different. And he was… well, he was Ghirahim. But recently, Link was starting to think that maybe it wasn't such a bad thing.

So instead he said, "You're just not the kind of person I'd usually befriend."

"I'm not the kind of person _anyone_ would befriend," Ghirahim muttered. He stated it with a dry smile, but even in his drunken state Link could tell that there was more behind those words.

"What about Ardaia and Rynae?"

Ghirahim made a 'hmph' sound in response. "Ardaia and Rynae are two of the most wonderful people I've ever met. You may not think so, and maybe teachers or other people don't either, but they're really remarkable."

"Well, that's good, isn't it?" Link asked, not understanding why Ghirahim still seemed so miserable. "To have friends like that, I mean. And for the record, I think Ardaia and Rynae are okay people too. Maybe a little unnerving, though."

"It's good," Ghirahim agreed, "but it's not what they deserve. Having to put up with someone like me when they could be getting on with other things; it's not fair."

"Like drinking more wine and smoking more cigarettes?" Link asked with a grin.

"You know _originally_, I thought you were a sad drunk," Ghirahim said, smirking. "Turns out you're just an ass."

Link spluttered while Ghirahim cackled obnoxiously. After a moment of listening to his laughter, Link couldn't stop himself from joining in.

"That's the first time I've ever heard you swearing," Link remarked. "It's _weird_."

"The reason I don't swear is because I have control over my words. And if I remember correctly it sounded pretty strange when you called me a bastard. Thanks for that." Ghirahim flashed his pearly teeth in a smile. "So go ahead."

Link grimaced. Mallara had always warned he and Pipit about using bad language. In fact, she'd literally washed Pipit's mouth out with soap for saying 'crap' when he was younger.

"There's no point," he told Ghirahim. "No point in swearing if I've got nothing to swear about."

"Oh, _I_ see," Ghirahim replied, his voice full of mockery. "Suddenly, you're just too _pure_ for swearing, aren't you? Just like you were much too pure for alcohol, for cigarettes. Never mind, then."

"Oh, shut up."

"I guess that's as close as you'll ever come. Such a shame."

Link scowled, seething. "You sure you still feel sick? You're still just as _annoying_ as you always are."

"Hasn't it occurred to you that you may be someone who is just too easily annoyed?" Ghirahim asked, smug as ever. "Because it certainly seems like it to me."

Link made to snap back at him when they rounded the next corner and he saw they were finally approaching the front doors.

"At least now I can get a few minutes peace," he said, and Ghirahim laughed.

"Oh? I suppose you plan on simply strolling over to Pipit and Fledge like nothing's wrong."

"There is nothing wrong," Link grated out. "You need to learn to keep your nose out of my business."

"I wasn't talking about your little dispute with your _ridiculously_ immature companions," Ghirahim informed. "I was going to remind you that you are drunk. In fact it's _you_ I should be calling immature. Trying every bit of wine Ardaia offered. Like a child on Christmas."

"I was _tired_," Link snapped.

"You're always saying that," Ghirahim said, his features drawn into a delicate frown. He turned to look Link in the eye. "That's all it is with you. What way do you actually feel? Because I know for a _fact_ that you're not tired. No, you're tired _of_ something. Angry about something. Tell me what it is."

"I don't have to."

Ghirahim stepped around Link so that he was stood firmly in front of the blonde, bent to Link's level with one hand on his shoulder. Link tried not to break eye contact, glaring back at Ghirahim with as much force as he could muster.

"You're right," Ghirahim said, his eyes both commanding and pleading. "You don't have to tell me. But trust me when I say that bottling up your feelings never ends well. _Never_. So I'm going to ask you to drop any formality there was between us, any resentment you might feel towards me. And just tell me how you feel. Because I can see it in your eyes; you're not happy. And I can safely assure you that I'm not going to repeat what you say."

Link stood speechless, staring at Ghirahim blankly. After a moment, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

"I'm angry," he said. "But I don't know who's _making_ me angry. You, Pipit, Groose. I don't know. All for different reasons. Pipit is suspicious of every move I make; Groose is driving me insane with all his stupid teasing and jokes."

"And me?"

"Well, you... You're the cause of it, aren't you?"

Link immediately wished he hadn't said that. Ghirahim looked absolutely devastated, his grip on Link's shoulder faltering. He took a step back, removing his hand. Link followed him, taking one cautious step forward. Ghirahim shook his head, though, raking a hand through his hair.

"This is _my_ fault," he said, his voice a rasp.

"It's not," Link insisted. "I phrased that wrong, you-"

Link stopped when he saw Ghirahim's eyes dart over his shoulder. He knew what was happening. But he wasn't about to let it continue. He shot forward and took Ghirahim by the shoulders, forcing him to turn around. Ghirahim reacted like a wild animal, whipping around at breakneck speed.

"Are you out of your _mind_?" he hissed, straining against Link's hold. But Link was stubborn, pushing Ghirahim as forcefully as he dared. The other's feet scraped along the ground in resistance. Ghirahim continued to twist, trying to get past Link while his eyes remained fixed on someone who didn't exist.

"Link," he pleaded. "Let me through."

"Turn around," Link ordered. "Don't you _dare_ look back. We're going straight to Owlan."

"He's going to _hurt_ you!"

"No one is hurting me," Link assured him. "Because no one is there."

"You are an _idiot_. Get out of my way!"

"No!"

"Link, he's going to _kill_ you!"

Link stopped his struggles and took a deep breath. He stepped to the side, and jabbed a finger toward the area Ghirahim was staring at.

"What's going to kill me?"

"_He_ is!" Ghirahim's voice was laced with desperation. But despite the slight pity he felt, Link wasn't about to let Ghirahim keep on with this. So he marched straight toward the nothingness that terrified Ghirahim so much.

"Come back!" he begged. "Link, _please_!"

Link stopped a few feet away from Ghirahim, waving his hands about in the emptiness. Ghirahim was watching in dread, his eyes as wide as they would go.

"Nothing here," Link said, walking around in a circle. "Just your imagination getting the better of you."

Ghirahim still looked fearful, but he nodded shakily, taking his eyes away from whatever his mind had conjured up. He looked to Link instead, who was making his way back to the teen, blinking rapidly.

"Now we're going to Owlan," Link instructed. "And there'll be _no_ detours either."

Ghirahim nodded again. When he turned around, his movements were stiff, almost robotic. Link walked alongside him, waiting for some sort of insult or insistence that what Ghirahim had seen was real. The question Ghirahim asked wasn't one Link had expected, though.

"Why do you let Rynae and Ardaia kiss you, but make a huge fuss when I do it?"

"Okay, where did _that_ come from?"

"Curiosity. Something I noticed."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Says the person in ruins because a -rather _handsome_- person gave him a little kiss."

"I'm _not_ in ruins. And, honestly, it doesn't take all that much to set you off either."

"Just answer my question," Ghirahim requested, giving Link a gentle push. Link glared back at him.

"I don't know-"

"Yes, you _do_ know how to answer."

Link huffed in annoyance. "Ardaia and Rynae don't mean anything by what they do. I don't particularly like it, but at least there's nothing behind it."

"So there's something more to _mine_?" Ghirahim asked. Link scoffed, growing tired of this conversation.

"How am I supposed to know?" he demanded. "You're the one who's-"

"Link?"

Link froze when he heard the familiar voice, as did Ghirahim, coming to a halt instantly. Zelda stared back at them, lips parted and eyebrows raised in an expression of surprise.

"_Ghirahim_?"

**A/N: I hope you all enjoyed that! Be sure to let me know what you think!**


	15. Locked Up

**Threads of Fate**

**A/N: Hello everyone! Here is chapter fifteen! This chapter isn't really a favourite of mine, but here's hoping that you'll like it! **

**A million thanks to BlueFrenchHorn97 for beta-reading!**

"Zelda?" Link and Ghirahim asked together, both aghast.

"Link!" Zelda repeated, still with the same surprised expression. "I was looking for- I mean, Pipit, he asked me to go and see-"

"Yes, yes, we get the picture," Ghirahim interrupted, rolling his eyes. "You've spent a whole ten minutes looking for Link here, _bless_ you, and now you've finally found him. And, if you don't mind, I'll be taking my leave. Goodbye for-"

"I need to talk to you, Ghirahim," Zelda cut him off, suddenly cold. If the situation hadn't been as bad as it was, Link would have laughed at the 'tsk' that escaped Ghirahim.

"What on earth could you want to talk to me about, I wonder?" he asked, a thin smile spreading over his face. Link could see the sudden alertness in his eyes, though.

"What were you doing with Link, Ghirahim?" Zelda asked, frowning. Her eyes looked Link up and down, and Link stood a little straighter in an attempt to seem as if he hadn't just gulped down three and a half glasses of wine. Not that it could really make a worthwhile improvement to their predicament.

"Why are you so curious?" Ghirahim fired back. "I really must be going, Zelda, so if you would be so kind as to just let me, I would most definitely appreciate it."

"Where were you taking Link to?" Zelda demanded, her voice rising ever so slightly.

"Why don't you just ask him?" Ghirahim suggested. Link felt an arm rest firmly on his shoulders, keeping him confined to one spot. Zelda regarded the action with distaste, but kept her ground, folding her arms across her waist.

Link cleared his throat, hoping it would help to make his words sound a little more precise.

"Er, Ghirahim asked me to take him to Owlan," he said slowly, glancing at Ghirahim for some sign of approval. When he received no response at all, he continued on. "He doesn't feel too good."

"Not at all," Ghirahim agreed. "But Link was passing by and offered to help me on my way like the friendly little person he is."

"What were you doing out here, Link?" Zelda asked. "Pipit was looking for you; the basketball trials were on today!"

"Oh, no," Link groaned, a wave of guilt coming over him. "How did I forget?"

"He was devastated, Link," Zelda told him. "He said you two had an argument, but I'm sure he still thought you'd at least show up."

"I know, I know..." Link faltered. "Oh, this is _bad_..."

Ghirahim was watching their exchange with an amused grin.

"Well, this certainly is interesting," he said. Link was pulled closer to Ghirahim's side, and Ghirahim showed no sign of letting him go any time soon. "Link blows off his _friends_ to help _me_. Very interesting."

"No one asked for your input," Zelda said smoothly. She took a step closer, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Anyway, Ghirahim, why were you going to Owlan?"

Link could feel Ghirahim tense up, any walls that had been brought down earlier shooting right back up again. Ghirahim took a deep breath, his thin smile never faltering.

"Well, as Link just told you, I'm not feeling like my usual charming self today," he said.

"I'm aware," Zelda replied. Link could tell she was simmering, fighting to keep herself from losing the hold she had on the situation. She kept going, though, voice firm. "But why Owlan, and not the nurse? Also very interesting."

Ghirahim dropped his smile, his grip on Link tightening by the slightest amount. He glanced over his shoulder for a second, before looking back to Zelda. He looked as if he'd rather be anywhere else than in front of her. But Zelda wasn't about to let him get away.

"What can Owlan do for you that a nurse can't?" she asked. "Why is it that _he's_ always the first person you run to when things go wrong? Surely there must be some important reason for having to see a teacher so often."

"Heaven above!" Ghirahim exclaimed. "What is your _problem_, Zelda? Can't you bother someone else for a change?"

"No one else is causing any trouble," Zelda retorted. "Except your two friends, of course."

"Leave them out of this," Ghirahim snarled. "You don't know _anything_ about them."

"Ghirahim, Zelda," Link started, "this is-"

"Link," Zelda interrupted, her voice gentler, but never losing the commanding edge it held. "Leave this to me, please."

"I think Link should be allowed to contribute to our conversation," Ghirahim opined. "After all, he's spent a considerable amount of time with me. More time than he's spent with you, perhaps."

"I doubt Link would want to spend his time with someone like _you_," Zelda responded coolly. Link could see she wasn't entirely sure of her words, though, judging by the way her eyes kept flickering back and forth between Ghirahim and himself. Ghirahim raised his eyebrows.

"Oh?" he asked, feigning innocence. "Well then, why don't you take a closer look at him and say that again?"

"Link," Zelda said, uncertain. "What is he talking about?"

"Nothing!" Link said hastily, ducking out of Ghirahim's embrace. He nearly tripped over his own feet in his attempt to get to Zelda quickly. Ghirahim laughed softly, but stopped as soon as Zelda shot a glare in his direction.

"Look," Link said carefully, making to put a hand on Zelda's shoulder before he changed his mind. "How about I take Ghirahim to Owlan, and then I'll talk things through with you?"

He sent a warning glance toward Ghirahim before he could make his outrage clear. Zelda looked as if she were about to refuse, but after a long moment that seemed to drag on for an eternity, she nodded her head with an impatient sigh.

"Alright," she gave in. "But I'm going with you."

"_Excuse_ me?" Ghirahim's expression was murderous.

"Is there a problem?" Zelda asked. She was smiling, but her eyes were still cold.

Ghirahim took a step closer so he could take advantage of the way he practically towered over Link and Zelda. He didn't bother faking a smile, offering them a steely glare instead.

"I can only hope there won't be," he replied, his jaw clenched tightly.

There was a brief period of stony silence until Link, unable to stand the tension, broke it.

"Alright!" he said, a little louder than was necessary. "No point standing here, so let's get going."

"Sure," said Zelda, turning so quickly Link had to avoid getting hit by her hair, tied up into a long ponytail. Ghirahim grinned at him and Link glared back before joining Zelda. All that earned him was a muffled chuckle.

"So, Zelda," Ghirahim said warmly after a moment. He waited for her to look at him over his shoulder before continuing. "How have you been lately? Keeping your notes tidy, studying after school?"

"Everything's fine," Zelda responded monotonously, looking away once more. "Just fine."

"And, let me guess, you're aiming for the academic award this year?"

"As always." Zelda took a deep breath, keeping her gaze locked on the school's front doors.

"I'll try and go easy on you this time around, then, so you at least have some chance."

"I appreciate it." Link was becoming extremely wary of the fact that Zelda's fists were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white.

"Of course," Ghirahim kept on, "you have your eyes on another prize too."

Link felt a finger prod him in the small of his back. It didn't move from there, though, and Link had to resist the urge to turn around and smack Ghirahim's hand away.

"I don't remember taking interest in any other awards," Zelda said. The bracelets around her wrists made little clinking noises as they knocked against each other. Ghirahim's fingers moved like a spider up Link's back, sending uninvited shivers along the length of his spine. In his drunken state, it was a real effort not to squirm.

"Really?" Ghirahim asked. "That's interesting. It seemed to me that you had your sights set on one in particular."

"You must have been mistaken, then," Zelda told him through gritted teeth. She pushed open the school doors with such force that they banged loudly against the walls. But she strolled along like there was nothing wrong at all. Link followed her quickly, at the same time escaping from Ghirahim's touch. The tall teen made no effort to catch up. It took two strides for him and he was already back in place behind them.

"Well, whatever that prize is, Zelda," he said cheerfully, "I'll probably end up winning it. Maybe _then_ you'll remember."

"How about we get you to Owlan without any more talking, okay?" Zelda suggested icily, watching Ghirahim over her shoulder for his answer.

Ghirahim shrugged smoothly, a casual smile taking form. "Whatever it is you desire, oh _revered_ _one_."

Link shook his head at that, tempted to kick Ghirahim. But he kept himself as relaxed as he could, leading the way to Owlan's classroom while Zelda fumed. He knew Ghirahim was still smiling as if totally content, but he was also very aware of how unbalanced Ghirahim's emotions were as of late. And of how good an actor Ghirahim was when he wanted to be.

Zelda marched ahead to Owlan's door, rapping her knuckles quickly against the door. Ghirahim hummed to himself, and Link remained as still and silent as he could, wishing with all his heart that he could sink through the floor. The disapproval radiating from Zelda was a lot more frightening than he was willing to admit.

Owlan opened the door after a moment, smoothing out the white shirt he wore and offering Zelda a warm smile. It faltered when he found Ghirahim standing close by, and he frowned in puzzlement.

"Ghirahim would like to have a word with you," Zelda told him. Her own smile was thin, barely there.

"And… _you_ brought him here?" Owlan asked. Zelda nodded stiffly. "Oh… I see. Well, you come on in, Ghirahim. Zelda, I, eh, I have you and Link to thank for this."

"Not a problem, professor," Zelda replied. She stepped out of Ghirahim's way and watched the other sweep past, her eyes tracking every movement with such scrutiny it made Link wonder how Ghirahim could remain so unfazed.

Ghirahim stepped inside and turned around to address the two smaller teens with a wide smile. "I appreciate what you've done for me. And it was nice catching up with you, Zelda."

"No worries," Link said quickly, before the tension between Ghirahim and Zelda could escalate even further. "Goodbye, professor… You too, Ghirahim."

The door shut quietly, and Link knew Ghirahim was already beginning his speech about how Zelda must be plotting against him, or something of the sort.

But he didn't have time to eavesdrop, because he was immediately taken by the arm and pulled away from the laboratory. Not roughly, but with enough force to let Link know there was going to be trouble. Zelda led him down the corridor, turning a sharp corner before whirling around to face Link, blue eyes blazing.

"Link," she grated out. "What is going on?"

Link's eyes drifted to where her hand gripped his arm tightly. Not like the first day, when it had felt so light and reassuring. Now it left him genuinely speechless. Zelda looked him up and down, waiting.

"I…" Link trailed off, not sure where to start. How was he supposed to tell Zelda that this had been going on since his first day, right behind her back? That he had been lying through his teeth for two weeks? That he was only just beginning to sober up after hanging out with the three people she had spoken so negatively of?

"Link, why were you with Ghirahim today?" Zelda asked.

Link sighed, his shoulders slumping. "It wasn't… It wasn't just today, Zelda."

Her hand was removed as suddenly as it had grabbed him. The betrayed expression she wore was nearly enough to break his heart. Link didn't meet her eye; he couldn't if he wanted to.

"What…?" Zelda shook her head. "I… Why? What were you doing? What were you _thinking_?"

"It's not like I actually meant for it to happen," Link tried, desperate. "We weren't-"

"On the _first day,_ I warned you about him!" Zelda interrupted. "I told you he was trouble! I thought you listened to me!"

"I… I did," Link insisted. "I really did. But he's not- they're really not as bad as you might think, Zelda. I wouldn't be hanging around with him if-!"

"They're not as bad…?" Zelda repeated. "What do you mean 'they'?"

"There's… Rynae and Ardaia too. All four of us."

"I don't believe this," Zelda said softly. "It's just… I mean… Why?"

"It's…" Link fought for the right words. "I was doing it so he wouldn't go after you, Zelda. After you and Pipit and everyone. But he's not what he seems."

Zelda ran a hand through her long blonde strands, looking like she was going to cry.

"Honestly," Link pressed on. "Whatever you think happened, it really didn't."

"How am I supposed to believe that?" Zelda demanded. Link blinked in surprise at her distrust.

"Why wouldn't you?" he asked.

"A few days ago, Groose told me that he'd seen you... _kissing_ Ghirahim," Zelda stated, her voice wavering a little. "I didn't want to listen to him, but... What happened in our Science class today, your behaviour, all these different things..."

Link was shaking his head, trying to think of some way to convince her that she shouldn't be angry with him. But nothing was coming to mind. And the more he thought about simply telling Zelda what he thought, the more it became clear that he and Zelda really were at odds with one another.

"The Ghirahim you know isn't the one that I know," he said slowly. "I'm aware that he's rude, he can be pretty mean, and- and he's violent sometimes, but-"

"There's a 'but' after all of that?!" Zelda's voice had risen steadily, and Link found himself flinching at her tone. But he was going to at least try and prove his point.

"There is," he said, searching for some good points he could mention. "He's very... very passionate about things he enjoys."

"You mean beating up other students?"

"_No_!" Link snapped at her before he thought twice about it. He let a sigh escape him, and had to stop himself from raking his fingers through his hair. It seemed Ghirahim was right when he said Link had made a habit of it. Link could have smacked himself for thinking about that at a time like this.

"No," he repeated, more gently. "About things like, uh, Science and... and art. His friends."

"Friends? The other two drunks?"

"Ardaia and Rynae aren't what they seem, either," Link protested. "You have to trust me on this."

"I'm not sure I can," Zelda told him, and Link suddenly felt colder than ever before. Zelda looked despaired, and her voice trembled ever so slightly, but she wasn't finished. "You... you really don't seem anything like the person I talked to on the first day."

"Zelda," Link pleaded. "I _never_ meant for it to-"

"I _heard_ you!" Zelda's voice had escalated in volume. A passing student jumped, darting out of sight in a flash.

"What do you mean?" Link asked, but he had the feeling he knew just what Zelda was talking about.

"I heard you talking to him," Zelda said, a little quieter. "You... Link, I really thought that what Groose said was some rumour, but..."

"Zelda-"

"You told me you _hated_ him!" she cried. "You said you wanted nothing to do with him! And now... I mean, exactly how long has this been happening?"

"Since..." Link grimaced, looking away. "This has been going on since the very first day."

Zelda shook her head, eyes wide. "What..? Why..?"

"I'm sorry," Link apologised. "This isn't what I wanted at all, really. But I did it so that-!"

"Don't trouble yourself," Zelda cut him off harshly. "You've said it enough times. I don't think I need to hear any more."

Without wasting a second, Zelda swept past him and vanished around the corner, each step quicker than the last. Momentarily stunned, Link had to shake himself to regain composure and follow her. He gathered himself, hiking his bag up a little, and took off after Zelda.

If disappearing from sight is what Zelda was aiming for, then she'd done a good job of it. Link had to slow himself so that he could find the easiest path to take among the students that were scattered left and right around him. Muttering apologies where it was necessary, he found himself at the end of the hallway. He had a choice of going left or right, but he had no idea which was the right way.

Standing on the tips of his toes, he made an attempt at peeking over the heads of some students in the hope that he might catch a glimpse of Zelda. Narrowing his eyes, he checked in both directions, but to no avail. Gritting his teeth, he chose to go right.

Link took in everyone who passed by, ignoring the wave Keet offered him along with Orielle's friendly smile. No sign of Zelda so far... All he could really be thankful for was the fact that the corridor was mostly empty, so he had a clear path.

He was about to turn a corner when he crashed into none other than Rynae, sending them both toppling. Rynae scuttled out from under Link and shot to his feet before Link could even register what had happened. His own black bag was on his back, and he had Ghirahim's red one over his right shoulder.

"Oh, Link, it's you," Rynae said quickly, his words spilling out in a rush while Link blinked in a near-dazed manner. "I was just on my way- do you need a hand?"

Link waved a hand in dismissal, picking himself up with as much dignity as he could manage. Rynae's breathing was a little shallow, as if he'd been running for a while.

"What's wrong?" Link asked him. "You look exhausted."

"I'm fine," Rynae said. "But I don't know where Ardaia is."

"So in other words, you're _not_ fine," Link said knowingly. Rynae glared weakly at him but, after a long moment, he sighed.

"Yeah. He's not responding to any texts."

"He might just be busy," Link pointed out.

"He never goes anywhere without me," Rynae said, sounding surprised, worried and frustrated all at once. "And if he does, he tells me first!"

"Relax," Link said, trying not to smile at Rynae's bewilderment. "I thought you two were cleaning up together?"

"And then we got a text from Ghirahim telling us to clear out." Rynae raised an eyebrow. "Do you have any idea what that's about?"

"Yeah... Zelda caught us on our way back to the school. And... she knows what's been happening. I'm sorry."

Rynae looked disappointed, but he shrugged it off. "It was going to happen eventually. I mean- wait. _Zelda_? Zelda caught you with Ghirahim?"

Link nodded uncertainly. "Yeah."

"Didn't Ghirahim go nuts?"

"Ah... honestly, he reacted pretty calmly. But he looked delighted to get to Owlan's lab."

"And, what, Zelda just left?"

"Well, after a little... _argument_."

"Oh?" Rynae sounded as if he were surprised, but his expression betrayed him. "About what?"

"About Ghirahim, no surprise. And you and your-"

"My?" Rynae interrupted. "I _do_ hope you were going to say friend."

"Sure."

"Good. So did you explain to her that we're absolute angels?"

"Well, I tried," Link said with a small smile.

"No luck?"

"Not in the least."

"At least you made an effort, right? Anyway... Ardaia might be looking for Ghirahim or Zelda. And I don't know if the latter is good or bad. Judging by how impatient you seem right now, I take it you were looking for Zelda too?"

"Yeah. Do you maybe want to help me?"

Rynae smiled, his grey eyes gleaming. "I don't see any reason not to."

They walked alongside each other through the hallways, turning back when they found a dead end or when they found themselves walking in a circle. Rynae insisted that Ghirahim was carrying rocks in his bag, but refused to let Link take it off his hands anyway. So he ended up simply switching from one shoulder to another.

"Rynae," Link spoke up after a while. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I'm fairly sure you can," Rynae replied. He glanced in Link's direction, a questioning look on his face, and Link was reminded of how much more reassuring it was to be around the same height as another person. Far less off-putting than talking to the likes of Ghirahim or Ardaia.

"Well, there was- Uh, I was told that on your first day here, Ardaia walked up to you and just... kissed you."

Rynae lost his footing for a split second, stumbling forward a step. He shot a quick glare at Link, a hint of red tainting his tanned cheeks.

"I see," he grated out. "And why is it that you're so interested in _my_ life all of a sudden?"

"I just wanted to ask you about that," Link said, holding up his hands in defence. "If you don't mind."

"Eh, fire away."

"Well... How did you react?"

Rynae laughed softly. "I don't know how I should go about explaining this. When you're kissed by another guy... and you've got homophobic parents... Well, it's _always_ a little confusing."

"Sounds like it would be," Link commented. "But, you and Ardaia are so... I mean, you guys seem to like each other an awful lot."

"We don't-"

"Oh, get over it," Link interrupted him. "What I really want to know is... How did you figure out that you were gay?"

Rynae took a deep breath, looking down at his feet. "It was _very_ scary, believe me. Up until then, I was fairly sure I was into girls. So I kind of freaked out a little. Well, maybe more than a little. But when I saw how Ardaia thought absolutely nothing of it -that is, he was so accepting of everything and everyone- I found it a little easier to adjust."

"But your parents don't know."

"They don't have a clue. But I'll tell them one day."

"I hope it goes well for you. And, I'm sorry if that was a little too personal."

"Not at all."

Link nodded, and a hush came over them. Rynae seemed to like it that way, though; his steps became suddenly lighter, and he wasn't staring at the ground anymore.

They were making their way up a flight of stairs when Ardaia came racing down them, a flurry of red and blue and yellow. He stopped himself just in time to avoid a collision.

"Link!" he exclaimed. "Rynae, you're here too?"

"Ardaia," Rynae breathed. "Where'd you go? I was trying to text you but-"

"Calm down," Ardaia told him with a laugh. "Honestly, I don't know what you'd do without me. I just ran into to Zelda, actually."

"You did?" Link asked. "Where? What did she say? Did she-?"

"Calm down," Ardaia repeated. "One at a time, maybe? She was on her way to her father's office. Where else?"

"Oh," Link said, a little vacant. Why hadn't he thought to check there? Rynae was frowning too, like he blamed himself for not thinking of it either.

"You didn't say anything stupid, did you?" he asked warily.

"I just asked her if she knew where Ghirahim had gone," Ardaia said. "The text Rynae and I got was a little unexpected, and I was a little suspicious. She didn't seem too eager to talk about Ghirahim, though I guess that was to be expected. But she did tell me that he was in Owlan's. And I asked her if she was in a bad mood. She had a scowl on that pretty face of hers."

"Why would you ask her something like that?" Link demanded. Rynae was shaking his head, eyes shut as if he couldn't bear to hear the answer.

"Because she looked like she was in a bad mood," Ardaia replied. Link could have smacked him. "Am I missing out on something here?"

"Zelda found me with Ghirahim," Link informed him. "_That's_ why she's in a bad mood."

"Seriously?" Ardaia blinked in surprise.

"You idiot," Rynae muttered.

"I'm really sorry, Link," Ardaia apologised. "I probably could have done something, stalled a bit. I didn't get any-"

The sound of a text alert cut Ardaia off mid-sentence. The redhead sighed.

"Oh, of course I get it _now_."

Not two seconds later, the phone rang. Ardaia tapped the screen and held it to his ear. Link and Rynae waited to hear, both shooting nervous looks in each other's direction.

"Ghirahim?" Ardaia spoke hesitantly. "Hold on, slow down, Ghirahim. I can't understand what you're telling me."

Link felt Rynae's hand on his arm, his thin fingers gripping Link's sleeve tightly. Link didn't give him any sign that he wanted him to take his hand away.

"Ghirahim, you _need_ to stop panicking right now," Ardaia warned. He flinched when he heard whatever Ghirahim said in response. "Look, I realise that you're in a bad situation right now, but you _have_ to keep as calm as you can."

Link watched a mixture of expressions shift on Ardaia's face, everything from frustration to anxiety and back again.

"I promise we'll be there," he said. Ignoring the questioning looks Link and Rynae sent him, he carried on. "We'll get in somehow; they'll let the three of us in. Just wait for us in Owlan's."

Link watched as Ardaia's usually-cheerful face crumbled, his eyes downcast. His voice came close to cracking when he spoke next.

"They're not going to lock you up, Ghirahim," he managed. "You'll be okay, you'll be fine. I swear, I promise. When have I ever broken a promise?"

He took the phone away from his ear, and tapped a button, ominously quiet.

"What happened?" Link asked. "What's going on?"

Ardaia pocketed his phone, and stared down at Link and Rynae with an anguished look on his face.

"They're going to lock him up," he whispered, and Link was sure that what he felt was his heart breaking.

**A/N: So yeah, dun dun dun! Sorry about the lack of Ghirahim in the second half of this chapter, but I promise he'll be the main event on the next one! Be sure to tell me what you think!**


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